Welcome to Bendyland!
by AuzeriGirl
Summary: Bendyland is approaching its 20th anniversary, and celebrations are in full swing! Come enjoy our all-new attractions, or meet Bendy, Alice, or Boris during the day! And for our more adventurous souls, break curfew and stick around after dark. We've heard that our nightly attractions are just to die for... Cover art courtesy of the wonderful FantasyToArt! Over 12,000 views!
1. Chapter 1: Smile! You're Being Watched!

**Chapter 1: Smile! You're Being Watched!**

Every day at Bendyland started with a magnificent parade. The park opened at 8:00AM every morning, and guests were ushered along the sides of walkways and paths for the parade that started at 8:30AM. Stands opened early to sell balloons with smiling, painted faces and cheerful grins. Other stands started cooking sizzling bacon or sweet, frosted funnel cakes, tempting parents to splurge on a fat-filled breakfast as the scents wafted through the park. Gift shops and souvenir halls opened their metal doors, and twinkling golden lights flickered on as the early-morning sun struggled to lift its head. There were a few rides in the front of the park, but even they waited patiently for the parade to start. The lines started early; everyone wanted to be as close as possible to the white line that marked the edges of the path, with a careful warning: DO NOT CROSS written in white letters right above it.

Excited whispers. Cheerful squeals. Hushed tones of anticipation. Then, three minutes before the parade starts, TV monitors around the park flickered to life. Joey's smiling face illuminated each of them. His fresh-pressed suit had barely a wrinkle, his hair was perfectly combed, and his white teeth practically sparkled on the monitors. He was the second-friendliest face in the park, and his cheerful voice caught every child's attention.

"Good morning!" His voice called out. "And welcome to Bendyland! We hope that you're as excited to be here as we are, in the place where Dreams Come True! So many years ago now, we had a dream to bring smiles to the faces of people everywhere. And then, wouldn't you know it, we made the Little Devil Darling: Bendy! Now, we're able to bring smiles to everyone's faces. I wonder if you can smile even bigger than Bendy can! Remember, always stick with a buddy in the park so you don't get lost, and follow the rules so you don't get in trouble!" Joey cleared his throat and picked up a piece of paper, copies of which could be seen hanging on nearly every store-front window, and plastered up on posters and boards around every corner.

**PARK RULES:**

1\. No flash photography.

2\. ID badges must be worn at all times.

3\. No firearms or weapons.

4\. No drugs or alcohol.

5\. Always travel in groups of two or more.

6\. Always leave the park before 7:00 pm.

7\. Don't be in the park after dark.

After reading off the rules, Joey smiled back at the camera. "Well, that's it from me! Without further ado, let's all give a big welcome to the parade! Remember to have fun in Bendyland, where dreams come true!" The recording shut off and began a countdown from ten. Children cheered with anticipation, clamoring closer.

Nine.

Little boys and girls were hoisted on the shoulders of their parents to get a better view, multicolored swashes of color, a background of bright T-shirts and toys.

Eight.

The stars of the show waited patiently behind an iron gate for the countdown to finish. Floats hummed and whirred to life. It was almost time.

Seven.

Everything and everyone in place. Lights flickered to life above them, the countdown broadcast above them cheerfully. Pie-cut eyes blinked. Heads tilted. Their smiles sprung to life.

Six.

Instruments tuned. A trumpet gave a soft noise, a quiet sound, a test of volume and pitch. Right on key, Sammy always made sure the instruments were tuned the night before. He may not be directing the band, he preferred the studio, but he'd rather die than let there be a string over-tightened.

Five.

An angel stepped forth, tapping the mic. It hummed back in response, eager for painted black lips to spill beautiful melodies, to grace it with her glory. She smiled.

Four.

A few notes plucked on a banjo. One last bite of a sandwich. Boris's ears turned up toward the mic as Alice tested it. Ready.

Three.

The butcher gang hopped to their places, framed by cartoon cutouts and flowers. Painted personnel in guard uniforms waited in even rows.

Two.

Only one thing left. The king to his throne. He hoisted himself upon it, his never-fading grin widening in anticipation as the cries of excitement crested outside. His show was about to begin.

One.

The gate opened with a low rumble, chains shaking as it stretched up above. Sunlight stretched out, painting the rest of the world in color, but not them. These black and white apparitions retained their cartoon appearance before the light. Still, they stretched toward the warmth of the sunlight, something once so foreign to them, reaching out as if to catch a few rays in their fingers.

Showtime.

Trumpets blared their arrival, cartoon musicians leading the parade in a carefully timed march. Dancers sprung forth with streamers, running out with laughter and joyful cheer. They skipped and spun, cartwheeling out to lead the way. Jugglers and clowns followed. They balanced on stilts or unicycles, throwing baseballs back and forth to each other in time with the music. The butcher gang threw tomatoes and pies at each other, earning roars of laughter from the crowd as the guards chased them for their mischief, a comedy in movement. Boris's float came first a small shack with a rocking-chair on the porch. He nodded his head to the music, plucking away at the strings. He waved to the children in between notes, turning back and forth. Children with headbands mimicking Boris's ears giggled to him, and after a moment, he began throwing candy from a fake jack-o-lantern. In Bendyland, it could be Halloween in July.

Next came Alice. The trumpets were far enough ahead now that her song didn't clash with theirs. She swung her hips, back and forth, the smallest of dances as she sang out note after note. Familiar songs and lyrics, though slightly different from her cartoon voice. Few people noticed the difference, and if they did, they made no comment. She was close enough to what they knew, and no one could deny how life-like she looked on her floating stage. Cotton and cardboard clouds covered the outer edges, with cartoon cherubs dancing on the ground to pave the way for her, their angel. She winked to those waving to her, never pausing in her song, never missing a beat of the sounds that poured from speakers at her feet.

Then, finally, the star of the show. Joey always believed in saving the best for last.

Bendy hopped up from his throne as the cheers reached their highest pitch. He danced joyfully to the sounds and music that picked up again, as the rest of the orchestra followed behind his float. A throne sat on top of it where he danced now. Records and TV monitors showing off his finest moments lined his float, along with cutouts and posters of iconic scenes. He hopped and danced, running about his float. He smiled at each and every visitor, never faltering. Eventually, standing and dancing on his throne wasn't enough for the little devil, and he hopped down to run alongside it. He darted forward, waving at the crowd. Children squealed and reached out for him, but he was always just out of reach. Easily the smallest of the three cartoon creations, he barely came up to most adults' waists. He ran ahead of his float, leaping onto Alice's stage and causing mischief as he stole a puff of cotton cloud and ran on. The crowd roared as Alice wailed, crying crocodile tears that were soon replaced with more smiles as her song resumed. He darted further ahead to Boris, grabbing handfuls of candy from the bowl to throw them at the crowd himself.

He was, without a doubt, the star of the show. The epitome of all that Joey had accomplished. He appeared to be a living, breathing, being. Fantasy and dreams brought to life. Children believed the magic, giggling as Bendy would approach them to poke at balloons or try to steal bites of food. Parents wondered if it was a man in a suit, perhaps, or maybe Joey had cracked the code to creating the most realistic animatronics possible. There was no other answer to how something so cartoonish, so picturesque, could walk around among them, leaving the slightest inky footprints that would be washed away with hoses every night. Eventually, people gave up trying to decipher how the cartoons were brought to life, buying into the magic themselves, content with the fact that even though they didn't know how it was possible, it was. They didn't need to know how, to know that it was. There was an explanation that could be backed by science. Logic. They just didn't know it, and perhaps, that was part of the fun.

On cobblestones streets, it was easy to believe that dreams came true. When you could ignore the pipes bursting with ink down below, when you couldn't hear the creaking of chains and the hum of the ink machine as it churned out river after river of pure-black ink, there was nothing to fear.

The workers knew better. _Allison_ knew better. She knew the things the adults wouldn't believe. She knew that once the crowds of people left, when the lights in the park finally shut off for the night, that these living, breathing cartoons didn't go back to power stations to recharge. She knew that no one took off costumes or wiped off makeup. She knew that when the show was over, Boris, Alice, and Bendy had an encore all their own.

The parade turned a corner, disappearing to travel further into the park, and people started to disperse. Rides and carousels designed by the famous Bertrum Piedmont begun their daily cycles, filling to the brim with people and swinging to life. Bertrum really was a spectacular designer, Allison thought as she began to walk. Probably why he was so expensive. It was almost the final straw to tipping Joey Drew studios over the edge, past the point of no return. They were financially drained. Joey dreamed big, and even though Bertrum was no stranger to big ideas, he was often very vocal of his complaints toward Joey. But after Bendy and the others sprang to life, Joey had more money than he knew what to do with, and Bertrum stopped complaining after his bills were finally paid. He made rides that amazed and excited, and some people came just to clamor onto the rides and roller coasters. There was even a haunted house open year round, though it was absolutely packed come October. Five years now they'd been running this park successfully and raking in the dough. Well, Allison assumed they were. True to his form, Joey only paid them their usual wages. Sure, they all got a bit of a raise, a bit of a bonus, but not what they were expecting or promised. Joey swore they would be. Just one more ride he wanted to build, just one more amazing attraction that he needed to invest in, and they'd start seeing more money.

Nobody complained too much. They couldn't. The stock market had crashed, and the world was reeling to recover from a Depression the likes it had never seen before. Allison was grateful to have a job, they all were, and they'd put up with the meager wages and stiff upper lip Joey had in order to keep a paycheck. Tom said once that he was surprised the park did so well, considering the country's economical state, but Allison said that it didn't really surprise her at all. People were eager for some joy in their life. People wanted to believe that everything would be alright, that dreams could come true, even for a little bit, and they'd be willing to save and spend their few precious dollars to catch a glimpse of that dream.

Turns out that behind the scenes, dreams take a lot of work. Part of what kept the park so popular was Joey keeping the studio itself up and running. Teams of animators and artists were packed into the studio to work just behind the scenes, though high-paying donors could get a tour now and then. The building sat proudly at the back of the park, and visitors often gaped at it from behind the iron fence that kept them away. Allison headed there now, though she was taking a different route. The front gate was closed of course, but workers could get in and out via the tunnels Joey built underneath, linking the entire park together. Most visitors had no idea the tunnels even existed, and they were, of course, forbidden for visitors to enter.

Allison walked through the crowds of people, standing out just enough for people to give her a few curious glances. Joey insisted that all workers dress business casual, so Allison's dark blue blazer and pencil, knee-length skirt caught attention among the swell of T-shirts and casual pants. It was better than wearing a uniform though, that would have been ridiculous. Workers were bombarded with questions about where to go and what to do, along with the occasional lost item or child. She didn't want to have to deal with all of that. So she kept her gaze forward, not paying much attention to the people who walked back and forth with cotton-candy and Bendy dolls. This park was all-too familiar to her now. The tulips and spring flowers swaying in the wind once seemed cheerful, but now had just become ordinary. Lampposts with flags and banners stating new shows fluttered, and those she would glance at. New shows were exciting, especially if it was a preview of a new cartoon being shown at a theater. Despite everything, Allison did like her job, and seeing others like what she did was encouraging. Finally, Allison reached her destination in a hidden corner of the park, behind a balloon stand and a few feet away from guest bathrooms. A small building, completely inconspicuous aside from one of the many cameras and signs positioned on top. A bright, smiling Bendy face peered down at her underneath a camera, along with the words. "Smile! You're Being Watched!" Allison looked up at it only briefly and lifted up her badge from her shirt for the camera to get a clear view.

After a moment, she heard the door unlock, and Allison pushed it open with a grunt. The heavy, metal door shut and locked behind her a moment later. Creaky wooden stairs greet Allison's, tempting her down into the dark tunnels before. Wind howled, swept through the chambers and turning from a soft breeze to a powerful gust on the right days. A hanging light swung back and forth, and inky pipes stretched out along the walls. Just out of sight of the guests, the real secret to Joey's success waited.

Allison headed down the stairs, some groaning under her feet. She had no doubt that they could break at any moment, and that Joey would do nothing to replace them until they did. She gripped the hand-rail cautiously, each step carefully planned. It was darker without the sunlight, and she headed down flight after flight. Pipes and wiring hung above her head, keeping the world above working seamlessly. Sparkle and glamour weren't needed down here. Finally, she reached the lower levels and headed down a familiar path. Occasionally the stone, cement walkways would turn or split, but Allison knew her way around after spending five years here. Another reason guests had to stay away; there was no way they would be able to find their way back out of the halls once they came in. Unless you knew where you were going, this place was an inky labyrinth. There were a few elevators off to the side that were available, but Allison always took the stairs. The creaky metal gate that opened and shut always freaked her out, and she'd take the risk of creaking stairs over swaying and crashing elevators any day.

Her heels clicked across the ground, and she focused only on what was ahead of her. Above her, she could hear coasters racing by, and dust sprayed down for a moment. She scoffed and shook it out of her hair. Gross.

Still, isn't wasn't the worst place to be. Not during the day, at least. On a sunny day like this, she didn't even have to worry about slipping. When it rained, which was often, water pooled in from cracks and under doors. Joey had built a crude drainage system, literally a pit that stretched far below where Allison could see on the edges of the walkway. Down, down, down, water mixed with ink in a foul mixture that Allison could only imagine was horrific at best. It would have to be emptied eventually, she was sure of it, but if or when Joey planned to accomplish such a feat, he hadn't shared it with anyone else. Tom grumbled quite often that when it filled up, HE would be the one to have to figure something out.

Allison felt the corner of her mouth twist up into a smile at the thought of him. Of Tom. The gruff maintenance man was a grump, through and through, with the driest sarcastic sense of humor Allison had ever seen in a man. He grumbled and complained under every breath. He kept his nose to his work, regardless of the project, and when he spoke, his voice was low and rough. He didn't speak often. Kept to his work, behind the scenes.

She knew other things about him too. Things few others had the privilege of knowing. She knew that when he got nervous or embarrassed, he cleared his throat and couldn't meet anyone's eyes. She knew that he often fixed leaks or patched holes along the walkways so that ink wouldn't drip on the workers, something Joey never asked, nor likely wanted him to do, but Tom did it anyway. She knew that he didn't like music unless it was Bluegrass, something Allison often teased him about. She knew that despite his rugged, gruff appearance, that Tom was a vegetarian.

A loud clang sounded out down the path to her left, followed closely after by a string of curses and loud complaints.

Ah, yes, that was something else she knew. Tom swore like a sailor.

She turned down the path, peeking her head around the corner to see Tom standing on a small step-stool and leaning up into the pipes above. His foul curses echoed up there, drifting down to the walkway below as he growled about broken pipes and money-hogging cheapskates.

"Better be careful, Joey might hear you saying stuff like that," Allison called up to him.

"A-Allison!" Tom pulled back, banging his head on the pipe. "OW! Stupid little..." He looked down at her, then back up to the pipes and cleared his throat. "A-Ah, sorry about that ma'am."

She chuckled. "Another pipe burst?"

Tom sighed, wiping droplets of ink from his forehead. "I swear, Mr. Joey Drew has me build these pipes with the cheapest stuff he can find, and now, they're all breaking one by one. And every time one of 'em breaks, I get an earful about that blasted ink machine needing more ink. And when I ask for a better budget for more quality pipes, Mr. Joey Drew refuses. Says that the old ones can just be fixed. I'd like to see him down here in these walkways, fixing these pipes. But noooo, he's up there in fancy suits meeting with all kinds'a folks with cameras and microphones..." he fumbled about, reaching down for his wrench at his feet. Allison handed it to him. "Ah, thank you."

"Well, I think you're safe from Joey Drew coming down here," Allison said. "He doesn't tend to use these walkways often."

"Can't say I blame him with how much ink is dripping about nowadays...I'm telling ya, there's only so much my repairs can do. Give these things a couple decades, and there's nothing repairs can do. These pipes'll burst and ink'll be everywhere."

"Couple decades? Geez, I hope I'm retired by then," Allison laughed.

"You and me both. What is it that Wally always says? One more of these pipes burst and-"

"IIIIII'm outta here!" Allison finished for him. Both chuckled.

"Well, I better be going. It was good seeing you, Tom," Allison said.

"You too Miss Allison. O-oh, Miss Allison?"

Allison paused, turning back to look at him. "Yes?"

Tom opened his mouth, then closed it. He waited a moment, then turned back to the pipes. "Ah, nevermind. Have a good day at the studio ma'am."

"You have a good day too, Tom," Allison said, turning down the hall. She smiled to herself, giggling as a few moments later she heard him swearing to himself all over again.

She had a feeling she knew what Tom wanted to ask. What he'd been trying to ask for a month now. She could bring it up herself. Ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work one day, him in his overalls and her in her blazer and skirt. But part of her wanted him to get the courage to ask her. It would mean more. Allison was by no means an incapable woman, and that certainly intimidated many other men before Tom. If there was something that Tom wanted, he was going to have to find his voice sooner or later. For now, Allison would simply treasure their interactions like this one. In these dark and gloomy tunnels, it was a steady bit of sunlight.

* * *

When Allison finally walked into Sammy's studio, the band was already playing their opening songs as a warm up. Sammy watched from up above at his look-out desk, tapping his foot to the rhythm. He scowled and leaned into his mic. "Stop, stop! Do it AGAIN! This time, less trumpet. Strings, really _feel_ that final note there at the end, draw it out a bit longer. Now, again!"

Allison opened the door to Sammy's look-out a moment later, setting her purse and jacket down in the corner. "Off to an early start today, aren't you Sammy?"

Sammy scowled. "He wants two new songs this week...this was supposed to be my catch-up week, where we fine-tuned the older songs, added in more layers. Now, he wants two new songs by Friday. I've got my work cut out for me, as always."

"Does that mean I should come back later for our recording?" Allison asked, and Sammy immediately shook his head.

"No no no, your voice will be a nice little relief compared to the _noise_ going on down there right now. Aggh, no no NO!" Sammy leaned forward again. "Oliver, what are you _doing? _You're playing the piano, not pounding a drum! Delicately, gently, but with purpose! Again!" Sammy ran a hand through his hair, forgetting for a moment about Allison. His glanced over at her. She looked down at the band a bit sympathetically, but the way her mouth twisted at the corners let him know she wasn't too concerned. She looked back at him, and he looked away before she saw him staring.

Allison was pretty, in a new-age kind of way. Sammy considered himself a new-age kind of person. He liked keeping up to date on new music, finding new ways to integrate sounds into his scores. She always seemed alert, confident. She had a place here, a purpose. It made sense that she used to work on the business side of things, working with numbers. Working with her mind. She'd moved over to voicing and singing for Alice full-time after a while. Shortly after Susie...

Sammy swallowed the lump in his throat. Oh Susie. Her voice was truly heavenly. Allison's was good too, and he couldn't argue with Joey in that she knew how to sing for the cartoon, how to follow Sammy's lead and direction when matching vocals with animated mouth movements. She was a good singer. But she wasn't Susie.

"Alright," Sammy said, rising from his chair. "Take a break," he told the band. "We work on Alice's song next. Make sure you're all tuned, and for God's sake Oliver, practice a few songs on the piano before we begin." He turned to Allison. "Ready for some warm-ups? We've got a long day ahead of us. Probably some overtime in our future."

Allison shrugged. "Let's get to it then."

* * *

Outside of the studio, the park continued to thrive with life. People ran up to hug Bendy, the little inky devil posing and dancing and generally getting into mischief. Alice held shows every other hour, and they were always packed, with lines out the door. Boris played his banjo and often hung out around the food stands, eyeing the meals and fried treats hungrily. Laughter was louder than music.

At 6:30PM, right as the sun was barely starting to set, the intercoms clicked to life, momentarily static before announcing in a clear, stern voice:

THE PARK IS NOW CLOSING. PLEASE FINISH YOUR PURCHASES AND MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE EXIT.

Over and over again, the message repeated, every five minutes, until 7:00PM rolled around. Workers and personnel exited their stores, closing gates and doors and putting away any lingering merchandise. Cleaners came through and made quick work. Guards stalked the park, checking every nook and cranny for stowaways.

At 7:45PM, all park members left, locking the gates behind them. The lights flickered off, plunging the park into darkness. In the background of the now abandoned park, the studio still lit up proudly, workers staying overtime to finish their work. Even then, they looked out their windows nervously. Most finished packing up and hurried out half an hour ago. Others kept their nose to the grindstone, intending to work straight through the night.

At 8:00PM, Boris, Alice, and Bendy were left to roam the park alone.

It was 8:30PM when Sammy was finally finished with Allison. He'd offered to let her go earlier, despite having so much to do still, but she could sense how much he wanted to get done today, how much he really wanted to finish their sessions so he could get back to writing the new music. So she stayed.

"Staying through the night, Sammy?" Allison asked, grabbing her jacket.

Sammy grunted, hunched over his desk and scribbling away. She supposed that was the best answer she'd get out of him.

"Good night," she said, tossing a wave over her shoulder, knowing full well she wouldn't get the sentiment returned. Sammy was off in his own world already, singing tunes in his head that would soon turn into beautiful melodies. She didn't mind Sammy, he was just narcissistic. Used to everyone telling him he was great. Thing was, he really was great. That didn't help his personality much, though.

Allison walked through the recording studio, past flickering projection screens and now empty band-chairs, their instruments all put away for the night in their cases. Most people were already home. Allison was normally home by now herself. She didn't really like staying this late. Nobody did.

She hurried along, making her way to the exit. She paused between the front door and the underground walkway, debating which would be better and quicker to get her to her car. Ultimately, the walkway down below won. She hoped she might see Tom again. Maybe he'd finally say what he was going to ask her. With that hopeful thought, she headed back down the stairs into the quiet abyss.

It was even quieter now without the distant sounds of laughter or rides running overhead. Now, there was only the click of her heels and the occasional drop of ink into puddles on the floor. She quickened her pace.

Take a right ahead. Then straight. Then a left. Then she was there, then she was out the door and back to her car. She thought she heard a door open and close. She walked faster.

Finally, _her _door was in sight, just up the wooden steps. She paused to breath an audible sigh of relief. "Thank goodness..."

It's was the shadow that passed over her that made her freeze. A grumble, low, animalistic, right behind her, stretching up above her head. Allison gulped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew what to do. Just stay calm.

She turned, face to face with the deformed apparition before her. An inky demon. His eyes were covered in ink, his mouth constantly chattering up and down in silent moans. He tilted his head at her, staring at her as he leaned in close.

She trembled at the sight of him. She couldn't help it. He was terrifying. If only the guests knew, she thought to herself with a laugh.

After dark, their little devil darling turned into quite the demon.


	2. Chapter 2: Keep Your Voice Down!

**Chapter 2: Keep Your Voice Down!**

When Allison was faced with Bendy, she was prepared. He towered over her, tilting his head in a form of mute recognition. He looked so different from the cute dancing demon of before, but it was him, without a doubt. His ears, or horns, she wasn't sure which, held that same signature pointed shape. The toothy grin was still the same. Even his bow-tie looked the same.

She took a deep breath, looked up at him, and smiled. It was forced, a big toothy grin that always felt wrong.

Not a peep, she reminded herself. As if she needed a reminder. Don't say a word.

Bendy paused, let out another rumble, and raised up his gloved hand. He slowly waved it back and forth.

Allison returned the wave, keeping that forced smile on her face. It made her cheeks hurt, but she kept it up, despite the way her lips trembled.

Bendy lowered his hand and walked passed her with a pleased grumble. He heaved himself up the stairs and a few moments later, disappeared through the door into the park outside.

Allison let out the breath she'd been holding in, rubbing her cheeks and wincing. Coming face to face with the devil day in and day out was becoming more of a regularity than she had ever hoped for. No matter how many years it had been, she still remembered meeting Bendy for the first time. Their meetings were more common now, years later, but she would still never forget it.

* * *

Years ago, when Allison first met Bendy, she wasn't afraid. Surprised. Confused. Maybe a little hesitant. But not scared. She'd walked in Joey's office to grab some files and paperwork she needed. Back then, she was still working with finances, trying to make sense of the numbers that didn't add up, no matter how hard she tried. She never wanted to work in finances. She just took whatever job she could once jobs were getting harder and harder to find.

No, what Allison really wanted was to be an actress. Maybe that's why she took this job in the first place. A part of her hoped, dreamed even, that maybe she'd get an opportunity, get her first big shot at acting. This was just a starting point. She didn't mind voicing whatever she needed to in order to get her foot in the door, and Joey Drew Studios was certainly popular. When Joey offered her the chance to voice Alice Angel, she leaped at the opportunity.

Maybe a bit too enthusiastically. She hadn't asked about Susie. Why she had to leave, why she was being replaced. She was just excited.

Then Susie walked in on their first day of recording, looking confused. Hurt. Betrayed. Nobody told her that she was being replaced. Allison was mortified, and she did nothing but stand idly by while Sammy did his best to calm Susie, who was practically hysterical. He told her to go talk to Joey, maybe they'd be able to work something out. A bitter, horrible part of Allison hoped they wouldn't. She wanted this chance. _She_ wanted to be Alice Angel.

When Susie went missing, Allison felt like a monster. She lay awake at night, crying into her pillow and trying to convince herself that it wasn't her fault. That maybe Susie found a better job somewhere else. She knew it wasn't true, but those were the thoughts that let her close her eyes at night.

Then, five years ago, Allison met Bendy. Joey wasn't in his office, which wasn't uncommon, so she had planned on getting in and out as quickly as possible. She'd walked in, opened one of the many lopsided filing cabinets and combed through the papers, humming her new Alice song under her breath. It was catchy. Sammy's work, so of course it was. It wouldn't be the first night that one of the songs would stick inside of her head long after she'd arrived home and changed out of her work clothes.

She shut the drawer, finding what she needed, and turned around to see the small, inky devil looking up at her curiously.

She blinked back at him. Waited. Blinked again. Something in her brain short-circuited. Misfired. She couldn't process what she was seeing in front of her, a cardboard cut-out come to life, a 3-D Bendy who was staring up at her. He came up to her waist about, maybe four or four and a half feet. He tilted his head, smile never leaving his face.

"Bendy!" a loud voice barked, and the little devil flinched. "Where are you?!"

Bendy scrambled away, diving underneath Joey's desk. When Joey appeared in front of Allison, she was still blinking in confusion, papers tumbling from her fingertips and onto the floor. They dipped and fell into inky puddles, but she made no move to gather them up again. She just stared at the desk in shock.

Joey grumbled. "Allison. I'm assuming you saw him then."

"Joey," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "What...what is THAT?"

Joey beamed, walking over to the desk and pulling Bendy out from underneath it. The demon frowned, wiggling about as Joey hoisted him up in the air by his foot. "This, my dear, is what's going to save the studio!"

She believed him. She was stunned, surprised, and couldn't possibly fathom how it had happened, but Joey didn't offer an explanation. He just scooped Bendy up and dragged him off. Allison was left standing in the empty room for nearly ten minutes, trying to process how a cartoon could walk about. How it could hide, smile, frown, interact with the world around him. How it could stare at her. She didn't remember leaving the studio, she barely remembered getting home at all. Hours passed by in a fog. She only began to finally come to terms with the reality of what she had seen when she next spoke to Tom.

"Yeah, it came out of that ink machine," Tom said. They sat together on a bench outside of the studio eating lunch, Tom with his sandwich and Allison with her chicken salad. "We weren't supposed to really talk about it much. I thought he was just crazy. I didn't know what Joey was cooking up back there, but he's had me filling in those pipes and setting up systems to hoist that thing around for a while now. I just played along, thought as long as I keep gettin' paid, it doesn't matter. He was doing things late at night. After everyone left. Then, that thing popped out one day." There were bags under his eyes that Allison hadn't noticed before. Deeper wrinkles indicating hours of frowns. His shoulders sagged with a weight she didn't understand.

"You look tired," she said, taking a bite of her food.

"I am tired," he answered softly. "I've been putting in pipes for so long, I've been seeing them in my sleep. So much ink. That constant rumble. It's inside the walls, above our heads, it was driving me crazy. I wanted to quit. Can't explain why, but something about the machine and those pipes just felt..._wrong. _Unnatural. Not...not right." He looked over at her. "You just saw that thing walking around, and you're asking me about looking tired?"

Allison laughed. "Well, I suppose you looking tired is a bit more understandable than seeing a cartoon walk around."

Tom smiled. Cleared his throat. Again. "Well, it came out of that machine we've been building back there. That's all I know, really. As soon as it happened, Joey shooed us all away. Won't be long now before we start seeing that little devil all the time. Did you know it can walk through walls?"

Allison's eyes widened.

"Yeah, it's made of ink, so it just kinda goes wherever it well pleases. Joey's trying his best to contain the little thing, I don't know, teach it like a parent would a kid, but it doesn't listen. It doesn't really follow the same rules we do. It's just...different. I don't know what it is, but it's not a machine or a person in a costume. It's something else, and I'm not sure it's something good yet. Cute little thing though," Tom admitted. "Right now, the only thing that keeps it entertained for a bit is the cartoons. It likes watching them. Just sits down in a chair, swaying back and forth to the music, eyes glued to the screen. Listen, Miss Allison, be...be careful around it, will ya? I know Joey's got something cooked up with it, something that will get this studio back on its feet, but it just isn't natural. So just promise me you'll be careful, alright?"

She smiled. "I will. I can take care of myself you know."

Tom chuckled. "Oh, I know."

Back then, Allison thought that the little devil was harmless. She actually looked forward to when she came across him, watching cartoons or dancing about. It was still a little unsettling, still some things that didn't feel right, but she was getting used to his blank expression and ever-present grin.

It wasn't long before Joey announced the little demon to the world. Of course, most people just believed it was a trick, something robotic or a puppet on strings. Joey was okay with that. As far as he was concerned, the less people who knew the truth, the less competition he would have. So we were swore to secrecy. Not that anyone would believe the truth anyone. What would they think if Allison stood up in front of journalists, claiming that the cartoons were real, living, beings? She'd become a laughingstock. For now, it was in everyone's best interest if they didn't know the truth about Bendy.

It wasn't just Bendy, though.

When Allison saw Alice, it was amazing. This character that she gave words too, this character that was, in a way, a part of her, was staring at her from behind a layer of glass.

"Can I speak with her?" Allison asked Joey, as the angel danced on stage and giggled behind the glass.

Joey glanced over at Allison. His eyes scanned her up and down, before turning back to the toon on stage.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Allison."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Well, think about it this way," Joey said. "She can sing, right? She's the real deal! The real Alice Angel! Don't you think she'd be pretty confused if she heard your voice? If she heard you speaking and singing instead of her?"

Allison's brows furrowed in confusion. "But, she's seen her cartoons, hasn't she? I voice her in the cartoons, so she must know that's not true."

"Alice is a special case. When we show her cartoons, we turn off the audio so she can sing along herself. Makes her happy, you know? And it's good practice for when she'll be singing on stage in front of visitors and park guests!" Joey put his hand on Allison's shoulder and smiled down at her. "So, for now, it's alright if you see her, give her a wave and a smile, but don't talk to her. I wouldn't talk to Bendy either, okay?"

"But I-"

"Listen, we don't want to confuse them! Right now, they're perfectly happy being in this world. Being cartoons brought to life. If we start getting into the technicality of how they came to be, well, they might not be so perfectly happy anymore. Let's not confuse them, alright?"

Allison swallowed. "Alright, Mister Drew. Whatever you say."

She pretended she understood. All she wanted was to talk to Alice. Just to smile at her, tell her how happy she was to voice her in the cartoons. It was so bizarre. Wanting to meet a cartoon. It was like an imaginary friend coming to life, but not being able to talk to them. For now, Allison was content with watching Alice sing on stage, seeing such a bright smile on her face. Hearing her sing always made her chest feel tight, though.

Susie would have _loved _to meet Alice. But no. Susie was still missing.

A few nights after that, Allison was recording with Sammy, and she learned for herself what Joey had meant.

"Alright Allison, one, a-two, a one two three four-"

_"I'm the cutest little angel, sent from above, and I know just how to swing. I got a bright little halo, and I'm filled with love. I'm Alice Angel! I'm the hit of the party, I'm the belle of the ball, I'm the toast of every town. Just one little dance, and I know you'll fall. I'm Alice Angel!"_

Sammy smiled as he listened to Allison sing. Her voice lifting and falling in the perfect rhythm. She swung back and forth, tapping her feet to keep the tempo. She was one of those people who you could tell loved singing just by the look of her face. The way her mouth opened into a smile after every note, the way her eyes closed to feel the music, the way she moved. The song became a part of her. Allison Pendle, possessed by an angel. Sammy nodded to the beat, gently guiding her through the verses.

He didn't notice the inky pool start up behind Allison's door into the recording booth. He was too focused on his notes, too focused on keeping the beat to the cartoon, keeping the band playing.

Allison didn't notice either, even as the ink pooled around her shoes.

_"I ain't no flapper, I'm a classy dish, and boy, can this girl sing. This gal can grant your every wish-"_

Something dripped on Allison's head. She paused in confusion, torn from finishing the song and reaching up to figure out what it was. Was there a leak in here? There shouldn't be. There was nothing in the recording booth but her, the microphone, and an Alice Angel cutout and poster. She leaned in to the mic, glancing up while doing so, trying to keep the song going while figuring out just what had dropped onto her.

"_I'm Alice-_ AHHHHHH!" Allison screamed, backing away and thumping against the glass.

Sammy looked up, his eyes widening. "Allison! What..." Sammy gasped, a choke noise that rose and died in his throat. He stared, mouth agape at the inky apparition.

Allison whimpered, scrambling backwards as ink splashed down on top of her. It was cold against her skin and made her flinch. Something big, dripping with ink stared down at her. At least, she assumed it did. Its eyes were covered completely by ink, lanky limbs were misshapen, bony. But that lop-sided bow-tie and grin were unmistakable, even if that grin shook and cracked up and down, over and over, only low, unintelligible mumbles and hisses coming out.

It lumbered toward her. Shadows stretched out from behind it, painting the walls in a kaleidoscope of murky waves. It was almost beautiful, but the haunting painter of such strokes kept Allison from appreciating them for long. It leaned down to her, toward her mouth and throat. It chattered again, a hissing, hungry noise that she couldn't decipher. It looked from her, to the poster of Alice Angel on the wall, then back to her again. It reached out with its single gloved hang toward her, and Allison was frozen solid. Petrified.

"BENDY!" Joey burst into the studio, throwing open the door. "STOP!"

It hissed at Joey, rearing back like an animal. A moment later, it pressed into the wall, into the poster of Alice Angel, and a few moments later, was gone. The shadows on the walls disappeared, leaving nothing but a few inky footprints. Joey walked over to Allison, looking down at her with a blank expression. "I _did _warn you," he growled.

They say that everyone handles traumatic experiences differently. Some people cry, some people act without emotion, some people even laugh hysterically.

Allison, apparently, got pissed.

She stood up from the ground and marched over to Joey. "Now listen here," she shouted. Joey's eyes widened and he took a step back as Allison approached, leaning in and sticking a finger in his face. "I don't know what the _hell _you've done by making that thing Joey, I don't know, and I don't want to know, but you will NOT blame me for doing my damn job. You made that thing, it is YOUR responsibility, do you hear me?! If something happened to me, if that thing hurts anyone, that's on YOU. Do you understand me? That thing is your responsibility, and if it ever hurts me, my blood will be on your hands. If you don't like that, then you might as well fire me right now!" she barked. Her chest heaved up and down with every breath. She was seething, her face was flushed, and by the time Sammy finally picked himself off of the ground and came into the room, she looked like she might explode.

Joey was silent. He regained his composure, straightening his bow tie. He looked at Allison calmly and raised an eyebrow. "Remember who you're talking to, Miss Pendle. But I suppose you're right. He did come into the recording studio. I'll make sure he stays away from here from now on. That way, you can keep working. But I hope now you take my warning seriously, and learned a valuable lesson."

He turned to leave, and Allison scowled. "All I've learned is that you're a selfish fraud, who's meddling in something you can't possibly understand."

Joey paused, but then walked out of the recording studio without another word. Once he was gone, Allison sunk to the ground, her legs too wobbly to keep her up a moment longer. She looked down at her dress. It was new. She'd bought it and wore it today because she and Tom planned on getting dinner tonight. He had to stay late to work on a project for Joey and couldn't, so she decided to stay late and work with Sammy. Passed nightfall. Now, it was covered in ink. She'd never get it out.

She didn't cry. She was surprised she didn't, and even after the anger faded and she started to realize how close she really may have been to death, she just felt drained and tired.

Sammy crouched down. "Allison. Are you alright? Do you need a hand?"

"I think...I think I just need a moment. To catch my breath," she said. "Are you okay, Sammy?" He didn't respond. Allison looked up. "Sammy? Her eyes widened.

Sammy was grinning, a smile stretched ear to ear. His eyes were wide, open and staring down at the ink on the floor. His breaths came out in shaky rasps, shivering with every exhale. His hair hung down in front of his face, casting dark shadows. His gaze slowly rose to her, his smile shaking as he giggled deep from within his chest.

"How amazing," he whispered. "_Incredible._"

* * *

It was well passed 9:30PM by the time Allison got home. She kicked off her heels and flopped face-first onto her bed with a groan. On top of working with Sammy late into the night and meeting Bendy again, the encounter had brought up memories of their frightful encounter in the studio from years ago that Allison would rather have left behind. She groaned into her pillow, trying to find the motivation to get up, take a shower, eat something for sure since she was starving.

Shower first, Allison finally decided, and changed out of her clothes. She felt better after that. There was something therapeutic about washing away the day under hot water. Despite her frightful encounter, she was in better spirits, and hummed about her tiny apartment room to fix herself something to eat. Leftovers would have to do. Maybe she'd order a pizza tomorrow. Tomorrow was Friday, the sacred day before the weekend, and Allison, blessedly, was going to be able to take the day easy. She'd finished her recordings with Sammy today, so she wouldn't need to go to the studio right away. Joey would still want her on the premises if he was going to pay her, just in case Sammy needed to record something over again, but Allison was happy that she wouldn't have to leap head-first back into work the second she got back. Maybe she'd ride some of Bertrum's rides tomorrow. Grab some cotton candy. Maybe even grab a bite to share with Tom as well, if she could track him down in those dark tunnels. Either way, the life had returned to Allison, as it always did. No matter how taxing her work was, she was proud of the fact that she could return to work each day with a smile. It was something she prided herself on, actually. Keeping her head up, keeping herself going no matter what the circumstances were. Her mother called it sheer stubbornness, a refusal to give in or sit quietly, but Allison liked to think of it as determination.

In her eyes, she only had one life, and she wasn't going to live it idly. She preferred to do things. See the world. Once, she had dreams of travelling overseas to Spain, Italy, maybe even France, somewhere she could walk around and not know what the people were saying. That sounded nice. Trying new foods. Seeing amazing things not just on a television screen, in an amusement park, or in a cramped studio. She just had to keep working, keep hoping Joey would be true to his word and pay them more than just table scraps.

Allison picked at her dinner at the dining room table, glancing down at a letter she'd left there, unopened, for a week now. Addressed from Archgate Films. The white envelope stared up at her almost tauntingly. All she'd need to do was open it. But, instead, Allison had left it there on the table, and this wasn't the first time she'd mused over what could be inside while eating dinner or sipping coffee.

A purr brought her attention downward, where an orange tabby rubbed up against her legs. She smiled and scratched underneath his chin.

"Well hi there, Cheese. How was your day?" she asked. The cat meowed in response, and Allison chuckled as she stood to fill his food bowl. She gave him another pat, and headed to bed, giving the envelope on the table one last glance over her shoulder.

'I'll open it tomorrow,' she told herself. 'Tomorrow for sure.' Allowing herself to believe her own lie, Allison flopped onto her bed and was asleep in minutes.

* * *

After dark, the park really was something. When the lights turned out, and the rides slowed their electric hums and rumbles, there was a certain serenity that couldn't be found anywhere else. It was like a mall right before closing, or a baseball stadium with no game planned. There was something special about a place that was meant for noise, for music, for loud cheers and laughter when it was hushed in silence. It made other noises feel more real. When leaves picked up and tossed about by the wind scraped on the sidewalk, when metal hinges squeaked ever so slightly after a big gust, when feet pressed against the cobblestone, when breath left lungs, these things sounded so much sweeter.

There was also the urge to fill the silence, with something, anything. A tap of a finger against a thigh, a snap now and then. Her preferred sound was humming, of course. It was too delicate a night to sing; it would feel wrong to break the silence with words or pure notes. Hums would do, low, deep within her, that she felt more than heard. Yes. That was perfect.

She used to hate the night. She hated when the people left. It was like they took something with them, something she couldn't form the words for, couldn't grasp in her hands or her mind. She felt empty, hollow, broken in an odd sort of way. She'd wander the park, loathing the overwhelming calm, seeking out anyone, any person who could hear her songs, anyone to please, please just _look at her._ But there was no one there usually. She found a few workers from the studio, yes, but Joey, mean old Joey, forbid her from interacting with them after dark. She _needed _to, she pleaded with him. She _had _to be loved, to be watched, to be adored, to be appreciated. If she didn't she felt herself falling apart. He ignored her.

She felt the ink run through her fingertips, cover her eyes, drip out of her mouth. She felt parts of her fall apart in her hands, leaving black fingerprints and smudges wherever she went. Her throat felt tight, her heart felt like it wasn't even beating at all, and the only thing that made it go away, that made her feel whole again, was when people watched her, when they listened to her songs, when they smiled, when they waved, when they cheered. It was her purpose. So of course it was no surprise that she wasn't herself when no one was left in the park.

Most of those feelings had long since faded by now. She had grown used to it, in an odd sort of way. After all, Alice had found a solution to her longing for attention.

"Booooris," she called out with a giggle, exiting the haunted house. He wasn't hiding there, which was probably smart. That's where she kept all of her tools. Being beautiful took work. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to catch her fingers on the skin that had fallen away by her mouth. It would be all better by morning anyway. "Come walk with your angel~"


	3. Chapter 3: Don't Get Lost!

**Chapter 3: Don't Get Lost!**

When Allison got to work the next morning, the park was closed. Signs hanging from the gate read: "Emergency maintenance, we will be back up and running tomorrow!" A few grumbling parents and lingering journalists crowded the iron bars, trying to peak inside. While it wasn't uncommon for Joey to close the park without notice, he almost always made an announcement beforehand, promising people that their tickets for today would work the next day, assuring they'd get their money back, blah blah blah. Judging by the amount of people still pulling up in cars with strollers and packed lunches, most people had no idea this was happening until they reached the gate.

Allison knew she wouldn't be so lucky as to get the day off as well, and her heart sank a bit when she realized that she wouldn't be able to take the morning to ride the rides after all. Regardless, Allison approached the side, employees only gate, and slipped inside. The entry was a bit away from the main park, and Allison had to walk along some back paths and trees in order to get to the main area, where most of the rides were. When she got there, workers were in a frenzy. Ink was splattered against food stands, rides, walkways, and lampposts, tainting the ground and looking like a giant inkwell had exploded. Some of the TV monitors were smashed and sparking. One of the rides looked like it wasn't working either, only occasionally twitching back and forth. A popcorn cart had spilled over, uncooked kernels running out onto the street for happy birds to pick up and claim as their own, if they weren't covered in ink. Cleaners raced back and forth, scrubbing ink from the paths and the sides of rides. Others rehung up posters, replaced broken equipment, and fixed rides.

Joey stood over it all, standing on a park bench to get a better view of everything. A cigar hung out of his mouth, dripping ash onto the bench's wooden frame while he crossed his arms. He looked out across the workers without barking a word.

Allison tried to stay out of sight. She didn't really want to deal with Joey first thing in the morning, especially if he was in a bad mood. Her curiosity could wait; Tom would have the answers she needed. He always knew what was going on in the park.

She saw several maintenance crew walking in and out of the haunted house, so that's where Allison headed. Tom had his own crew to look over, so even if he wasn't in there, somebody who knew where he was would be.

There was even more ink here. Had a pipe burst? If so, why were TV monitors smashed like that? Could it be vandalism? If so, why were there hardly any guards to be seen? Allison walked along, trying to step around dark puddles that lingered in potholes. She hoped the ride hadn't broken completely. She rather liked the haunted house. The jumpscares were predictable and a little bland, but the leisurely ride wasn't the worst thing in the world, and she appreciated the spooky artwork and comical moans and rattling chain sound effects. No matter what damage had been done, she was sure that Bertrum would be able to fix it, but if it was too costly, Joey might scrap the whole thing for something else. He was always improving and replacing things, and this ride had been here from the start of the park, back when Joey had shoved it down in some broken up basement, miles beneath the earth. No one in their right mind would have come to such a shabby looking place just for a ride, but when Bendy, Alice, and Boris were in the picture, it was another story. Joey, literally, brought his creations up into the world after that. The haunted house had been torn down, bit by bit, maintained, and then rebuilt up here, in the open air. It was nice, a little callback to the original park, back when the only visitors were the workers seeking a break from the mundane overtime and countless hours of relentless pressure from Joey.

Well, that part hadn't changed much. But now there were more people than just the workers who rode the rides.

Allison followed the inky trail further into the haunted house, moving passed stalled carts with painted faces and cut-out ghosts and gravestones, making her way to the spacious middle room that was typically the final stop riders made before a deep drop into darkness. There was a small dip and hill, something that always felt like a much bigger drop than it actually was, and then the end of the ride. In the big room, however, there were more people than ever cleaning and working, and it wasn't hard to see why.

Ink was everywhere. It was splattered against the walls and pooling in puddles the size of ponds. In the center of the room, there was an odd table with straps that was perhaps the thing most covered in ink, and workers scratched their heads, wondering how it had even got there. Allison, not seeing Tom, approached one of them, a man she didn't recognize. He kept rubbing his eyes.

"What happened?" Allison asked, and the poor man nearly jumped out of his skin.

"You haven't heard?" he responded, looking around at the other workers. "I'm not sure I'm supposed to tell anybody if Joey hasn't told them..."

"I'm a worker here," Allison explained. "I work in the studio, specifically, I voice Alice Angel."

"Oh! You're Allison Pendle! You're the one Tom talks about!" the boy said with a wide grin. "I guess you're okay to tell then. Actually, you can go talk to him if you want. He's over there," he said, pointing to the part of the room where a large accordion sat. Tom was seated on the stool with his head in his hands. She hadn't recognized him, bent over like that.

Allison thanked the man and headed over to Tom. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up with a start. "Oh. Hey Miss Allison."

She frowned. His eyes were red and there were bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted.

"How long have you been here? What happened?" Allison asked.

Tom hesitated. She could see his eyes look around the room, his mouth open and close slightly. Finally, he sighed. "Joey gets here early in the morning. Earlier than anyone else I guess. Well, he found something today. Called me in early. Real early. Said he had something I needed to take care of, as soon as possible. So I come in and..." Tom swallowed. "Geez..."

"Tom?" Allison said, coming to sit beside him. "Tom, what happened?"

"We don't know if it was kids who snuck in the park, or if it was just some prank or something, but Boris? He was all...cut up."

Allison's eyes widened, but Tom continued, words rushing out of his mouth in a frenzy.

"His chest was all ripped open, bones sticking out, I-I didn't even know they had bones at all, but his guts were all there and his eyes were all crossed out, like some joke in a cartoon, like where one of them dies as a joke or something, but it wasn't a joke, he was dead and parts of him were missing and just thrown about the room, and all that ink it, it came from inside him, like it was blood, but it was just ink. Joey had me carry the body away, take it back to that ink machine, and then leave it there. I..." he ran a hand through his hair and swallowed. "There was something else too."

Allison waited for him to continue, but he just stared down in front of him. "What?"

Tom shook slightly, and Allison was taken aback. She'd never seen him this scared before. Tom was tough, he was strong, he was rugged, and sure, he was also a big softy who couldn't stand the thought of hurting anyone, even animals, and that's why he wouldn't eat meat, but she'd never seen him scared. She'd seen him tired, angry, frustrated, happy, sad, but not this. This was different. She saw the way his eyes moved back and forth, brows furrowing as he tried to work out the words in his head, tried to make sense of the things he had seen.

"I don't think I can work here much longer, Miss Allison. But I'm not leaving without _my _damn machine," he whispered under his breath.

* * *

Allison walked into the recording studio a few hours later, trying to make sense of what she had seen, as well as what she thought Joey would do. Boris was gone. Dead, but it was hard to wrap her head around something that shouldn't have been alive in the first place dying. He was just a cartoon, right? So how could he die? And couldn't Joey just make another one?

This brought up more uncomfortable questions too. The cartoons had organs? Bones? Could they feel pain? Did they feel anything at all?

Suddenly, Allison didn't blame Tom at all for wanting to leave. If these things could die, then that meant Joey was creating life. You can't create something out of nothing, this much Allison knew. She didn't want to stick around while he continued to play God.

"What a nightmare," she murmured, running a hand through her hair.

"Long night?" Sammy asked with a chuckle, coming up behind her with some sheet music.

"Long morning, actually," she admitted.

"You should just go home, rest for the day. We finished your recordings yesterday," he said, and it was true, Sammy spent Fridays writing his music, clearing out the studio of all the band members, seating himself down in a quiet little office that he finally, _finally _convinced Joey to let him have after claiming to quit otherwise.

"Joey won't pay me if I'm not here," Allison said, taking a seat in one of the empty band chairs.

"Ah yes, chivalrous Joey Drew," Sammy murmured under his breath. "Did you hear about what happened today?"

"Yup," she said. "Not sure how they're going to replace Boris, especially so short-notice. I mean, the signs on the gate say the park will open back up tomorrow, and I don't know how Joey made those things, but surely they can't be easy to replace."

"Actually, this isn't the first time a Boris has died."

Allison blinked and looked over at Sammy, who was fiddling with a banjo. He plucked a few notes, humming a melody to himself.

"It's not?"

"Nope. Apparently, this is theeee...fourth time? I forget. It's always the Boris's though," Sammy said with a shrug.

"Fourth, what...how do you know that?" Allison asked, leaning forward.

Sammy smiled devilishly. "I'm in charge of maintaining the audio logs. Storing them for...what was it Joey called it? Legal reasons? That's hardly what the staff use them for, most people use them as diaries to vent about their problems. They talk about how things work in this studio. Some things that I don't think people are really supposed to say, but they do, and Joey's got no idea. Wally, Tom, Joey, Susie..." Sammy trailed off, but then looked back to her. "They record these things for whatever reason, and then I'm in charge of storing them and making sure they're filed away nice and neatly. And if I choose to listen to them now and then, none are the wiser."

"That sounds _very _illegal, Sammy," Allison said, the corner of her mouth twisting into a smirk.

"Since when has anything in this studio ever concerned itself with legality? Joey Drew doesn't understand how legality even works, otherwise, he wouldn't think these magical audio recordings would be so useful. They're not, they're trash, they're pointless, or worse, some of them point out things that _could _get Joey in a lot of legal trouble. But he makes me keep them anyway and insists people keep them too. It's not required, otherwise he'd be breathing down your neck all the time. After all, you don't have any recordings, do you?" he asked.

Allison snorted and leaned back, crossing her arms. "No, I don't, and knowing you listen to them means I never will. What a breach of privacy."

"Aren't you curious?" Sammy said plainly, playing a little tune now, barely looking up from his work. "Aren't you curious how people think around here? The things they wonder and worry about? There's a lot about this place I know, Allison. There are secrets I've put together that have led me to know more than you could possibly imagine."

"I still don't think it's morally right," she said. "It's pretty violating, Sammy."

Sammy sighed and put down the banjo, frowning at her. "If people didn't want me to know something, they shouldn't have recorded it in the first place. At least I keep them safe and make sure nobody else can listen to them."

"Are you _sure _about that?" Allison said.

Sammy paused for a moment, but then chuckled. He leaned his head on his hand. "I keep that door locked tight, Miss Allison. The only way someone else could listen to those recordings is if they could walk through walls."

* * *

Tom finished his recording, pushing the stop button and leaning back in his chair. He rubbed the back of his neck and stared up at the ceiling of his office. Ink dripped down, drop by drop into a bucket he placed underneath. His office was small, pushed back into the corner, not so much an office as an end of the hall where he could sit to catch a breather every now and then. And that was fine by him. He had his own crew, sure, but Tom preferred to work with his hands. Anything paperwork was just annoying. He was intelligent, but putting his thoughts into words was always a struggle for him. Too much to think about. Working on things, fixing things, he liked that, he liked seeing the direct results of his actions. Leaky pipe? Fix it. No more leak. Broken floorboard? Replace it. Good as new. That's what he liked. He liked figuring out how things worked. Hell, there was a time he considered himself more of an inventor than a mechanic, but things like "inventors" didn't get good jobs nowadays. Mechanics did, whole world was breaking, so mechanics were always needed. Fix things, not build new, expensive things.

Except for that machine. That ink machine.

He never should have built that thing for Joey. He knew it when he was building it, when he was installing pipes and ink, but he swallowed the bile in his throat, the knot in his stomach. Just another job. That's what he told himself. This wasn't something he ever wanted to invent, and there were parts of it he himself never worked on. Joey was strict about a lot of it. There were parts Tom never saw. And he pretended the whole machine was part of Joey's delusion, like when Joey wanted them to offer up "pieces" of themselves to appease the gods.

The man was superstitious to a fault. Tom convinced himself that the machine was just part of that superstition, a superstition that somehow brought little beings made of ink to life. Nothing more. He knew it was a lie, but he tried to tell himself it was the truth, tried to pretend, but it was hard. It was hard when Boris died and yet, magically, another one appeared as if nothing happened. It had happened before. He couldn't tell Miss Allison this wasn't the first time he'd found a Boris dead. It just didn't feel right. It felt like admitting guilt, somehow.

This was the first time one of them had been cut open like that though.

That ink machine...it couldn't just make somethin' out of nothing. That was impossible. No, Tom had a feeling he knew how it worked, but the thought was so horrifying, he couldn't even linger on it. He couldn't admit to himself that he'd help create a machine that made monsters out of men.

But now, seeing something cut open to see painted, inky organs and bones, he couldn't hide from it. There were too many new people coming in. Too many people Joey insisted Tom hire. High turnover rates are one thing, but members and workers of the park, of _his team _"quitting" right before a new Boris shows up?

God, Tom hoped he was wrong. He hoped that wasn't the case. He got letters from old coworkers that quit but...he didn't know. Sometimes it just looked like their handwriting wasn't right. Too nice. Too clean. Too fake.

The door to Tom's office opened from across the room, and Tom sat up as Joey entered, humming the Bendy song under his breath.

"Ah! Hi there, Tom, how are you? Get all that stuff fixed up in the haunted house today? Wanted to check in on that," Joey said, smiling widely.

Tom nodded. "Yeah. I finished it alright. Is there something else that needs to be fixed?"

"Oh no no no, nothing like that," Joey said, coming over to lean against Tom's desk. It creaked a bit, and Tom frowned. "I was just looking over the numbers, and I think we've got enough people 'round this department, don't you think? Maybe even too many. I want you to choose one of your team members to let go. Now, I know this is hard, so I want you to send them over to me once you decide. I can break the news gently to them, alright? I won't expect you to do something like that."

Tom gripped the edge of his chair. "Joey, now I know not all of my guys are young and as healthy as they once were, but these are good men, and hard workers. We just hired a bunch of new guys, they helped clean up the ink today. My men are good, honest workers, you can't expect me to just choose one for you. They need these jobs and they haven't done anything wrong. You can't really ask this of me."

"I can," Joey said, matter-of-factly. "It's just numbers, Tom, we just need to let someone go! I don't even think we'll need to hire a replacement, why, your team does a great job! Such hard workers! I just don't think we need so many of 'em. So, I'm trusting you to bring me the person you think isn't performing the best, and I'll take care of the rest. Oh, and I need it to me by tonight, Tom, before closing." he said, rising from the desk.

"Joey, I really think-"

"This is not up for debate, Tom," Joey said harshly. He turned around, smiling, and he stuck his hands in his pockets. "Choose, or I'll choose someone for you."

"This is about Boris, and the ink machine. Isn't it, Joey?" Tom scowled. "Just what the hell are you doing back there? I'm not stupid. Where do these Boris's keep coming from, Joey? I helped build that machine. I deserve to know what the cost is to making those things!"

Joey paused. Something crossed his eyes, something that made Tom's blood freeze. His eyes were all dark. Scary. His whole body turned rigid, like a statue. Joey pulled his hand out of his pocket, pulled out a cigar and lighter, and lit it, taking a slow drag before pulling back and looking at Tom.

"Miss Allison was looking awfully pretty today, wasn't she, Tom?"

Tom froze. His mouth opened, hanging there for a moment.

Joey smiled. "She always wears the cutest little things. What's the words to that Alice Angel song she sings? Something, something, cute little dish?" Joey chuckled. "Yeah. She makes a good Alice, alright."

Tom trembled.

Joey tossed the cigar to the ground and crushed it under his foot. "Give me a name. By tonight, Tom. Or I'll pick someone myself." He waved over his shoulder, walking out the door, and Tom was left trying to stop the shaking in his hands. He fell back into his chair weakly. He felt numb, in shock, cold. Everything he had feared, Joey had just proved true. And now, Tom had to make an impossible decision.

* * *

Allison waited outside of the studio patiently, trying to resist the urge to pace back and forth a bit. She and Tom always met for lunch, but she had arrived a bit early today. She got antsy waiting, she hated it. She wasn't the most patient woman. She could be leisurely when she wanted to, sure, taking strolls through the woods or the park, but she just often got too excited when she was expecting to do something and had to wait. She glanced at her watch, tapped her foot, hummed under her breath, anything to stop just idly waiting.

Finally, the door opened, and Tom walked out. Allison smiled brightly. "Hey there! What are you feeling for lunch, today?"

Tom didn't say anything. He had his back to her, and Allison paused. "Tom? If you don't want to eat today, we don't have to, I know you had a pretty crazy morning. I can give you your space if you want," she started, but Tom spun around and grabbed her hand. Allison squeaked in surprise.

"Miss Allison," Tom said quickly. "Today, I...I don't want to just get lunch. Let's go out of the park today, someplace nice in town, or maybe someplace else, I don't know, someplace other than just a hot dog stand or God-forbid more of that awful vegetarian-bacon soup," he said, words rushing out in a hurry. "Somewhere, somewhere for just the two of us!"

Allison blinked in surprise. "Well I...I suppose I...Tom, I'm not complaining, but where is this-"

"Don't," he said quickly, and Allison noticed for a moment that his hands were shaking in hers. "That's...that's the one question you can't ask me. Please. Please just say yes, and don't ask why."

Allison wasn't sure if she wanted to. This was unlike him, to sound so desperate, to look half-crazed in the way he gripped her hand, softly, but firmly. She wasn't sure what was bothering him, but desperation was not something she particularly enjoyed. Desperation made her nervous.

But his eyes were pleading. And such a beautiful brown, with little hazel flecks. And she would be a hypocrite if she turned him down now, after hoping that he'd work up the courage to ask her on a real date for years.

"Alright, Tom, yes."

He smiled. Why did it look so sad? But before she could ask, he was leading her away from the studio, through the park, through the workers still cleaning, away from the walking cartoons, who strolled around performing for cleaners and maintenance people, confused as to why no one else was there, away from Joey Drew watching out the studio window, away from the ink machine, away from everything. Tom led her away, for today, for one day, that's all he needed, just one day to get away from everything.

A picnic is what they ultimately decided on. They picked up sandwiches from a small little deli near the amusement park. They only had an hour for lunch after all, but they took their sandwiches and spread out on a grassy hill in the park nearby. A real park, not the kind with loud rides and laughter and cotton candy, but the kind of park with natural colors and light and grass and birds. Tom liked that. He liked the feel of the soft grass on his hands, watching ducks swimming around down by the pond. He liked hearing the birds sing overhead, and watching squirrels chase each other around up and down the trees.

He'd finally worked up the courage to ask her on a date, and now, he couldn't think of a single thing to say. She kept glancing at him between bites of her food, expectantly, wanting him to say something, but suddenly having her here, with him, and not just with him as coworkers, but, but _with _him with him, he didn't know what to do. He nearly dropped his sandwich three times just trying to comment on how nice of a day it was outside. It wasn't even really that nice, it was overcast, it might rain tonight, and it was almost a bit too cold when the wind blew, but Allison didn't mention it. He could see the questions swimming in her mind. He knew this was unusual for him, but he needed this. He needed to be with her, like this, and there were so many things he wished he could say. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but that felt wrong for that to be the first thing he said, because she was so much more than how she looked, so much more, what if he insulted her? He wanted to tell her how strong she was, but not with muscles, just in the way she held herself, the way she walked with purpose, mouth always turned into some sort of smile or thoughtful line. He wanted to tell her how much he admired her drive, her motivation, her passion and effort in everything she did, how even when the park got scary after dark, she refused to leave early just to avoid crossing paths with Bendy. Tom couldn't even say that about himself. There were several nights where he noticed it getting dark out and proceeded to leave a job half-done because he didn't want to stick around.

But not her. She wasn't scared, and if she was, she didn't let it stop her. She was purpose personified, someone who should be running a place like this, someone who commanded attention with every step she took.

And here he was, not able to say any of this, because he didn't want to mess up his words, he didn't want to stumble or make things awkward. Things were already awkward, but he didn't want to ruin this moment. It was an awful feeling, having so much to say, so much he wanted, needed, to tell her, but not wanting to break this time of just sitting beside her, just being near her.

Allison finished her sandwich before Tom even finished half of his, and he worried she might leave him sitting here alone if he didn't say anything, but instead, she leaned back against the grass, laying down and stretching her hands behind her head to close her eyes. She smiled, and started to hum a bit.

"That's, uh...is that a new song? For Alice?" he asked.

"No, not this one. This one is just me," she answered. "It's nice to have things that are just mine sometimes. Like little memories or moments. Sometimes, working in that studio all day, it's easy to get lost into playing the part of Alice. It's just nice to take moments to remind myself that I'm not her, you know? Sometimes I feel like that's all Joey sees me as. Just another Alice, only difference is I'm not made of ink."

"You're much more than Alice Angel," Tom said softly. "...hey, Miss Allison? What would you want to do, if you didn't work here, for the studio?"

"Well, I guess I'd like to keep being an actress. Work for a bigger studio. Somewhere where I can have more than one role. Really push myself, have something new everyday. Would be nice to be someplace warmer too," she said. She paused for a moment, then opened her eyes to look at him. "I actually applied for a position with Archgate films a while ago. They sent me a letter back."

"What did it say?" Tom asked.

"I haven't opened it yet," she said.

"Oh."

They were quiet for a moment, neither saying anything, while Tom crinkled the sandwich wrapping paper between his fingers, over and over. "You should take it," he said. "If they offer it."

"I know," Allison said. "But I don't mind sticking around a bit longer. There are some things here worth sticking around for."

Tom smiled and cleared his throat. Then he looked away. Looked out over the lake, its blue surface painted gray with the clouds rolling in over head. He took a few deep breaths. Tried to remember everything he was seeing, and turned to look at her again. Memorize the way she looked, right now. Eyes bright, alert, the way she watched the sky, the way she lay against the grass. Finally, Tom stood. "We better be getting back," he said sadly. He offered her a hand up, and Allison took it, hoisting herself to her feet.

His hand lingered in hers for a moment, holding it, memorizing the weight of it, the warmth of it.

"Listen Allison, I...I care about you. Alright? I care about you a lot. So I'm going to say what I need to say right now."

Allison, still so confused, looked up at him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Alright, Tom. I'm listening."

He looked down at her and frowned.

"Get out of here, Allison. Quit Joey Drew Studios as soon as possible."

* * *

A few hours after close, Tom knocked on Joey's office door, and entered without waiting for a response. Joey was inside, looking over some paperwork. A radio sat in the corner, playing a voiceless tune, wailing away happily. Framed posters of the old cartoon advertisements hung on nearly every free space of wall, so much so that it was hard to see what color the walls were underneath. The big studio logo hung up too, the only real nameplate Joey needed, and it was as big as his ego.

"Ah, Tom, I assume you've come here to give me the name of the person you want to fire," Joey asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're late. I needed someone earlier than now, so I may not have a choice but to just pick someone at rando-"

"It's me," Tom said, interrupting him. Joey's eyes widened, but Tom was firm. "If you want to take someone, if you want to 'fire' someone," Tom said mockingly. "Then fire me."

Joey crossed his hands in front of him, leaning into them to look up at Tom. "...you've figured out so much, and you're still volunteering?"

"I know too much anyway, don't I?" Tom shot back. "You can fix your own damn ink machine from now on. Either you let me walk out of here, and let me take the ink machine with me, or you do what you wanted to do with one of my men to me. I won't sacrifice them to you. Not anymore."

Joey was silent. He stared up at Tom with a blank expression that Tom couldn't read.

"I know I can't go to the police," Tom said. "Because there's no evidence, right? No way to prove what that ink machine really does. But I won't let you hurt my men. And I certainly won't let you hurt Miss Allison. So you let her go, Joey, got it? You let her go, let her quit if she asks, and you don't force her to stay."

After more moments of silence, long enough that Tom started to get nervous, Joey smiled.

"Whelp, guess it's decided then." Joey stood up from his desk and walked over, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder. "It's been nice working with you, Tom, I'm going to miss you."

For just a moment, Tom thought his hasty assumptions might have been wrong.

Maybe Joey really wasn't sacrificing people into the ink machine to make the cartoons come to life. Maybe he really did just need to fire someone. Maybe Tom wasn't about to make the worst decision of his life in order to keep Allison safe and save his men. He didn't want blood on his hands, but maybe there was never any blood to begin with.

But then Joey looked over Tom's shoulder, and Tom felt a shadow pass over him.

"You heard the man, Bendy. Take him away."

An ink covered hand grabbed Tom by the neck roughly, yanking him backwards. Tom gagged, falling and being dragged along on the ground by the ugly, malformed demon before him, who just smiled down at him without a word as he pulled Tom away, pulled him down the halls, and to the already humming and warmed up ink machine. It went by too fast, and suddenly Tom was panicking, he was grabbing at the wooden boards, getting splinters as he tried to hold onto, tried to jerk himself free. He tried to grab at Bendy, but his skin was too slick with the ink, he couldn't grab onto anything as he was whisked away. He tried to scream for help, tried anything, but there was no one there that heard him or cared about his cries.

Tom's last thoughts before he was plunged into darkness was of her. Of Allison. Her smile. Her voice. The way her hand felt in his. The hope that maybe she'd get out of this cleverly disguised hell.

And then there was nothing but ink.


	4. Chapter 4: Don't Stay Out After Dark!

**Chapter 4: Don't Stay Out After Dark!**

Bright, happy music filled Allison's apartment. Her radio sang song after song of chipper trumpets and saxophones, filling the rooms with music that made her feet move all on their own. Her cat, Cheese, stared up at Allison from his cushion bed in the corner, blinking as she hummed and spun around the tiny room. Her voice carried out the window as it dipped and rose with the highs and lows. Ella Fitzgerald really _was _fantastic, even if she were a bit new age. She'd taken Sammy's recommendation on this one, and ever since, she couldn't help but dance at Ella's sweet love songs and toe-tapping beats.

Allison opened up her tiny open, pulling out a batch of (only slightly) burnt chocolate cookies. She wanted to bring some for Tom tomorrow. He'd seemed really shaken up about something, but she was sure he was just nervous. He'd done it! He'd actually done it, finally, the rascal had finally asked her out on a real date! It was awkward, and she'd certainly been on better first dates, but it was Tom, and his fidgeting was cute and his sheepish voice was something too, and she'd take what she could get.

She took off her oven mitts, taking a moment to pull in the mail that she had left on the counter after returning home. A few more letters, cursed bills, and a package, unmarked, wrapped in parchment, that she left on the counter. She'd get to it later, she was in too good a mood right now to linger on anything other than her happiness. It was probably just another package from her father, back home, sending her pictures or snacks or anything, really.

Her family lived out of state, quite a bit out of state actually. She'd traveled on her own to try to get her shot at an acting career, and it was more than a little terrifying. It wasn't the city that scared her. She was used to the city; she'd grown up in one with her father and two younger brothers. They'd all been working since the day they could walk, from selling newspapers on sidewalk corners to button factories and construction jobs. No, it was scary to leave them all on their own without her. It was hard, when she decided that she wanted to move to California. It was harder to work up the courage to tell her family, but the hardest was how eagerly they encouraged her. She couldn't get a word in about money, wondering how they would get by without her, anything. They wouldn't have it, and even now, they sent her little packages now and again. A little reminder that they were still there, and that they were getting by.

She sent quite a bit of her earnings to them as well. It felt like the right thing to do. Sometimes they sent it back, a stubborn refusal and sturdy statement of their well-being. Other times, they didn't. She knew those must have been the hard weeks. Maybe what Allison was really scared of was letting them down. Of taking this chance, and not getting anywhere with it. But she had to keep hope.

One day it wouldn't be like this. One day she'd work for a company better than Joey Drew Studios. She'd be a household name, acting in every corner of the world, from stages to cartoons, to _real _films. It would happen. She just had to work a little harder.

Tom would understand that. She hoped. Their date today, could she really call it that? The word brought a smile to her face. Their date today was interesting, to say the least. And his final words seemed so odd. She was hoping he would say something else, a heartfelt confession perhaps? No, it was too soon for that. But he sounded so desperate. She couldn't even get another word in, she couldn't tell him that Joey had actually just offered her a minor raise. So she just remained silent, and that seemed good enough for him, in that moment.

Leave the studio? She supposed she wanted to. Thought about it. But a raise, right now? She couldn't pass that up. Besides, he wasn't one to talk, he certainly didn't act like he was going to leave any time soon. Words and hypotheticals are one thing, but just quitting, out of the blue? That was dangerous in today's world. No sane person quit a job without having a good reason.

Allison once again looked at the letter on the counter from Archgate Films.

She couldn't wait too much longer, or they'd decline their offer. If that's what it really was. Maybe it was a polite refusal to her application. Maybe they had sent her a letter, paid for the postage, just to tell her she hadn't made it.

Yeah. She's sure they did that for _every _person who they declined to work with them. Thousands and thousands of handwritten and stamped rejection letters.

Who was she kidding?

Sighing, Allison turned her radio down and sat down at her desk. No more hiding. It was now or never. She ripped open the top of the envelope and, taking one last breath, pulled out the letter inside.

* * *

_Dear Miss Allison Pendle,_

_We are most happy to inform you that Archgate Films is very interested in hiring you as a full-time actress. Your resume has proved that your qualifications are more than satisfactory for a position with us here at Archgate, and your experience voicing Alice Angel at Joey Drew Studios displays your talent for the voice-acting industry. We'd be happy to offer double your salary at Joey Drew Studios, with regular benefits. Of course, we can further discuss such things later. __We would be happy to offer you an in-person interview at your earliest convenience to meet and discuss further opportunities with you at Archgate Films. Please let us know if you are still interested in the position._

_Sincerely,_

_Hughy Frizeton_

_Head of Archgate Films Acting and Voice-Acting Department_

* * *

There is was. Simple, concise, and neat. Nothing more than a single paragraph and some further contact information. Welcome to Archgate. You've been accepted. Congrats!

_Double _her current salary. She had no more excuses now. Too many things were pointing her in this direction. With a wide smile on her face, Allison contemplated calling Joey up right now, giving him a right piece of her mind, and quitting on the spot. Tell him off, tell him exactly what she thought of his shrewd business practices and more than unsettling park attractions.

So why didn't she feel as happy as she thought she would?

Instead of calling Joey, she reached for the other package on the table, deciding to open it as well. She couldn't wait to tell her father and brothers, they'd be so excited! That might help her get more excited. She'd continued to tell them how happy she was at Joey Drew Studios, promising them tickets if they could make the journey, but now that she had another position lined up, she had no qualms with telling them just how horrible the studio really was. She ripped open the packaging, and paused.

This wasn't from her family. This was an audio log. There was no note, no nothing. Just a blank audio log.

Allison tilted her head, then pushed the play button.

_"Allison,"_

Tom?

_"Allison, if you're listening to this, then...then I guess it really happened. I tried to work up the courage to tell you this at the park, but I was scared. I was scared that maybe I was overreacting, that maybe my imagination was getting the better of me. But if you're getting this tape, if you're listening to this, that means that I wasn't overreacting, and this is real. Somethin' really bad is happening at Joey Drew Studios."_

At her feet, Cheese rubbed back and forth, begging for extra treats even though Allison had already fed him. She made no move to pet him. She was frozen.

_"My men have been going missing. I mean, they quit, but they don't turn anything in themselves. Some of these men I know, I trust, and they send letters, but it's not right. Something's wrong. I think...I think maybe Joey's doin' something to them. I don't know what's going on, and I don't really have any evidence to prove this, but I just have this really bad feeling. Listen Allison, he wants me to give him the name of somebody to fire. Somebody to-to 'go missing' again. I can't let that happen Allison. I'm giving him my name. If I'm wrong, then I'll finally be out of that blasted studio. But if you're listening to this, I'm not wrong. And no matter what Joey says, I didn't just quit. I wouldn't...I wouldn't do that to you. No matter what he says, I wouldn't just leave without telling you so Miss Allison. This might sound crazy. But I'm scared. So if Joey says I've quit, if-if you get letters from me, that's not me. It's not."_

Allison was already grabbing her keys and coat.

_"The reason I'm telling you all of this is because, because you can't stay in that studio Allison! He's plannin' something real bad! I can't let anything happen to you. I just wanted you to know that you were my best friend in that damn studio. That whatever happens to me now, it's...it's alright. I've made my bed, and I'll lie in it. So please, Miss Allison, please..."_

Allison was already out the door, storming her way to her car, and driving to the studio, her chocolate cookies growing cold on the counter top long after she was gone, and the recordings final notes playing out for only Cheese to hear.

_"Don't look for me, Allison. Just leave the studio. And try to forget about me."_

* * *

It was well passed closing time when Allison arrived at the park. Way later than she had ever been in the park as a matter of fact. Late enough that driving along the highway to get to the park, it was rare to pass by another car. Their headlights illuminated the dark road for a brief moment, and then disappeared in her rear view mirror. If there were other cars, she sped around them. The parking lot was empty of all but a few cars and hers, so she parked clear up near the front. As if to prove a point, she even parked in Joey's "assigned" spot, making extra sure that her bumper pressed up against his fake-gold plated name tag, denting it ever so slightly. She stepped out of her car, closing the door roughly behind her. She marched up to the gate and then paused.

Great. She made it here, but now what? What were her plans once she got here? Of course she didn't have any. The stars twinkled tauntingly overhead, a full moon illuminating the barren land just enough for her to see and elongate the shadows of telephone poles and lamp posts.

Allison sighed, gripping the iron bars of the gate and leaning her head against them. "...now what?" she whispered. "Just what did you think you could do once you got here, Allison?"

Burst in to save Tom from some unknown fate? Beat the hell out of Joey Drew for whatever he had done until he talked?

Just another example of Allison rushing in before thinking things through. Not unusual.

The problem was, she didn't doubt Tom for a second. A part of her knew that she should be questioning his claims and his wild accusations from the audio log that just appeared at her door. But she didn't. She knew he was telling the truth. Their date made sense. As much as Allison wished that his attitude was nothing more than nervousness, she could hide behind her own ruse no longer. Tom had taken her there because he thought he might die. That something might happen to him.

He didn't want to have any regrets. He didn't want _her _to be a regret.

Allison bit her bottom lip, pounding her fist against the gate. It rattled in response. She was not going to cry. She refused, but her eyes were betraying her.

"Dammit Tom," she whispered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hm? Is someone there?"

Allison froze, looking out through the gate. Who was that? A figure stepped forward, wearing normal clothes, but a very odd mask. It looked like a cardboard Bendy mask that vendors sold to kids. With a few minor alterations to fit the adult who was wearing it, such as the mouth being removed. It was a little unsettling. The rest of the clothes were a pair of white overalls and a black T-shirt.

She thought about hiding, or taking a step back, but she didn't.

"Allison? What are you doing here? Don't you know the park is off-limits after dark?"

The voice was...a little familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. There was something in the tone, the way that the voice rose and fell, like it was always on the verge of breaking out into a fit of giggles, that gave her pause. The mask also muffled the voice quite a bit.

"I could say the same to you," she said hesitantly. "Who are you?"

That earned her a giggle. "Nobody important," he said. "Just a loyal follower. Are you looking to come inside?"

"Yes," Allison said, gripping onto the bars again. "I need to get to the studio. Can you let me in?"

"Hmmmm...that's against the rules though," he said, stepping closer to the bars. "What do you have to offer me in return?"

Allison scoffed and rolled her eyes, reaching for her purse. This was ridiculous. She should be scolding him for being out after dark, reminding him how dangerous it was for anyone to be walking around unsupervised, ask him how he even got in here in the first place, but instead he was acting like a smug gatekeeper. He knew she was here for a reason. She grumbled unladylike things under her breath, but the man just chuckled.

"Save your money, Allison. I don't want anything like that."

She paused, and raised an eyebrow at the man, daring him to ask for something "else."

"No no no, nothing like that either!" he said, raising his hands defensively. "Let's just say I want...a favor. Later, though, not now."

"How can I promise you a favor if I don't even know what to call you?" Allison replied. "I don't plan on sticking around her for very long either."

"Call me the Follower," he answered back. She could see his wide smile through the hole in the mask. "All I ask is for a favor."

"I could just climb the gate," she shot back. "I really don't need you at all, and this is ridiculous. You're not even supposed to be here!"

"You're looking for Tom, aren't you?"

She froze, her mouth falling open slightly. He took another step toward her, grabbing the bars, his hands inches from hers. Even with the gate between them, he still appeared to be peering down at her.

"I can take you to where Tom is," he said. "But I still need your word. And you can't go back on it now. You're an honorable woman, Allison. I know you'll keep your word, so that's what I want. Your word that I get one favor from you, should I call upon you again."

She hesitated. This all seemed a bit too wrong. This strange man, in the middle of the park, in the middle of the night. What was he even doing here? It didn't make any sense. Nobody in their right mind would stick around after dark, especially knowing what lurked between rides and cotton candy stands. And yet here he was, dressed as if he were one of them, trying his best to be a black and white cutout.

But he knew what happened to Tom. That was already more than she knew, but she had a feeling he wouldn't tell her anything for free. On top of that, he said he could take her to where Tom was.

That meant Tom might still be alive. She had no idea what Tom had meant when he said his workers were going missing, or what he thought Joey might be doing to them, but if he was alive, then there was hope. Considering the walking, talking cartoons that roamed the cobblestone streets, she couldn't rule anything out. She realized, with a bit of fear, that she had no idea what Joey was really capable of. She really hardly knew anything at all about what happened behind the scenes. If this strange man, this...Follower, knew things she didn't she couldn't just deny how useful that would be. Maybe this was more than coincidence that he find her at the gate. She wasn't really a woman to believe too heavily in fate, but she also couldn't deny that connections could be made even in the most unlikely situations.

"Fine," Allison said, reaching her hand through the bars. "Deal. Take me to Tom, and I'll grant you a favor."

The man stepped away from the bars. "Give me just a moment then." He disappeared back into the trees for a second, and a few minutes later, the gates creaked open, just enough for her to squeeze through. Once she stepped through the bars, they slammed shut again behind her, making her jump slightly. The Follower returned a second later and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Right this way Allison."

It bothered Allison that this man clearly knew who she was, and yet she had no idea. She knew she _should _know who it was, which was somehow even more frustrating, and made her feel more than a little stupid, but she just couldn't place it. Every time she'd try to get a better look at him behind the mask or from a different angle, he'd move in a way so that shadows covered him or so that he was out of direct eye sight. It was infuriating, and finally, Allison just decided to give up. It wasn't really why she was here anyway.

"How do you know about what happened to Tom?" Allison asked. "What did happen to Tom?"

"I know everything that goes on in this park. Especially if it happens once the park closes," he said. "And Tom crossed someone he shouldn't have, and paid the price. He wasn't willing to sacrifice his own men, soooo now here we are."

"I don't understand," Allison said.

"I'm aware," he answered back. "Just a bit longer, and you'll understand more."

The Follower led Allison through the park, and she couldn't help but wonder at the park once all the lights were out. Darkness stretched along the ground like long tendrils, and the shadows of rides looked like monsters, twisted up abominations reaching out to grab at wondering passerbys. Fallen leaves and the occasional plastic bag drifted along, swirling in patterns before disappearing around corners. And it was so quiet. She heard the creak of Bertrum's carousel as the carts turned at the slightest breeze. She heard the doors to stands and building moan at the hinges. She could hear her own footsteps loudly echo. It was unsettling.

"Shouldn't we be worried about...you know," Allison said. "Bendy?"

He chuckled. "There's no reason to worry as long as you're with me. He won't harm an innocent follower."

Allison swallowed. She was starting to think maybe it wasn't a good idea to trust this strange man, who spoke of Bendy as if he were more than a monster. Bendy and all of the cartoons were nothing more than crude attempts at playing God, ink monsters that shouldn't exist. Yet this man spoke of them almost as if they were people, or something even more than that. An innocent follower? What could he mean by that?

Allison swore she saw movement in the bushes up ahead, right behind the roller coaster, but the Follower didn't hesitate. Was that whistling she heard in the distance?

Calm down Allison, she told herself. Nothing is coming to get you. And even if you bump into Bendy, you know what to do. All you have to do is smile.

She heard footsteps behind them now. Clicking sounds, like shoes, not the usual slapping noises of Bendy's heavy, inky footsteps. They were concise, methodical, and clearly walking with a goal in mind. She just kept right behind the Follower, resisting the urge to turn around and look behind her. The Follower led her back down another path, but she was a bit confused. He didn't seem to be leading her toward the studio, where she expected he might take her. He didn't really seem to be leading her toward any particular location at all, and Allison was starting to worry.

"Is the park always this terrifying after dark?" she murmured aloud.

"Hmm. I suppose you could consider it scary. I rather enjoy the...serenity of it. Doesn't it seem almost sacred, the way the world is draped in quiet? A world of smiles and laughter, a happy offering to an inky lord, and then a barren limbo for him to enjoy in between bouts of cheer," he said with a hum. "I find it rather beautiful!"

Allison stopped. "You're...you're talking like a mad man." She gulped and took a step back. "Thank you for your help this far. I mean, getting me, this far. I, um...I think I'll be fine on my own from now on though," she said, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin.

The Follower stopped, turning to look at her over his shoulder. "Ohhh? And we were almost there. Are you sure you want to leave so soon? There's so much I've yet to show you, Miss Pendle. So many songs we've yet to sing."

She was starting to recognize that voice. Allison's eyes widened. "Wait...are you...Sam-"

"Who's there?" a voice called out, and both the Follower and Allison froze. There was no mistaking that light, airy tone. It made Allison feel just the smallest sliver of hope.

Alice peeked out from around the corner of a building. Her brows were furrowed with worry. "Oh dear...what's going on? Is everything all right? No one is supposed to be here after dark you know."

Allison smiled at her, breathing a sigh of relief, but also a pang of sadness knowing that she couldn't directly respond to Alice. Allison looked over to the Follower for help. She wasn't allowed to say anything for risk of "confusing" Alice, something that she debated doing just to spite Joey. But then again, considering everything else that had gone on, maybe Joey should be listened to now and then when he gives warnings. Allison would never forget being in the studio with Sammy and having Bendy nearly attack her in confusion. She didn't want the same thing to happen to sweet Alice.

"False angel," the Follower spat, and Allison looked over at him in shock. "Traitor! You who so adamantly refuses to acknowledge my lord! Who even goes so far as to disrespect him and this holy ground!"

Alice's sweet pout turned sour and she grinned widely, poking the rest of her head out from around the corner. Allison covered her mouth with her hands and her eyes widened in shock. Her Alice, her beautiful Alice Angel, was twisted into some horrid abomination. Half of her face was melted away, revealed too many teeth and muscle, but it was all ink, all black and white. One of her eyes was missing too. Her hands looked like talons. Her smile was a sneer, and her light voice turned low and venomous.

"That's no way to talk to a lady, you pathetic waste of space," she hissed. "You should be nicer to your angel!"

"You're not my angel," he growled back at her.

Allison took a few steps backward, her eyes locked onto Alice's horrendous figure. What had happened? How could something so horrible fall upon something so beloved to her? Was she in an accident? Did the same thing that attacked the Boris attack Alice? Allison felt her lips move and open to speak, but she covered them with her hands again. She couldn't speak, no matter how much she wanted to ask these questions, wanted to ask her if she were alright.

Alice turned from the Follower to Allison, raising an eyebrow. "Who is she? Why did you bring her here?"

The Follower giggled. "Oh, she's no one for _you _to worry about. She stumbled into this holy lair, an offering to my lord! She's a sacrifice!" At these words, the Follower reached out, latching onto Allison's arms and yanking her back towards him. She yelped and struggled, trying to pry her hands away, but his grip was rough and he tugged her to the ground, wrapping rope around her hands before she even realized what was happening. She tried to kick back at him, but he was quick, grabbing her leg and forcing her to the ground face-first. She tasted dirt and spat, coughing.

"Get off of me!" Allison shouted. "Let me go! Stop it! You told me you would take me to Tom!"

"Ohhh, but I am!" he said. "My lord knows where all of his dear subjects are, and I'm sure he'll be more than willing to take you to Tom, once he's done with you."

"That voice," Alice trembled. "I know...that voice..."

Allison's eyes widened. Crap.

The Follower laughed. "Ohhh I'm sure you do. You see, I'm going to take her to my lord to fix the wrong that is _you, _false angel. We're going to make a perfect angel out of this one, right here! Miss Allison Pendle! Then, finally, my lord may make me one with the rest of you, cure me of this awful, mortal body, and give me an inky body all my own!"

Alice screeched and lunged at the Follower, knocking him back to the ground. The breath was knocked out of him, and his grip lessened on Allison for just a moment.

Just a moment was all she needed. Allison pulled herself to her feet and took off, sprinting away from the shrieks of the two of them, locked in a fight. She stole a glance over her shoulder, saw the Follower kick Alice off of him and grab for a wooden plank lying on the ground. She stood back up, reaching out for him with claws, screaming something about being perfect, about being beautiful, but soon Allison was gone, running too far and too fast to hear or care what they were arguing about any longer.

She never should have agreed to go with that strange man, but she was desperate to find Tom and thought that she could trust him. Apparently, more things were twisted in this park than just the winding roller coaster tracks.

After running quite a ways away from the two of them, Allison stumbled upon the entrance to the studio. This wasn't exactly where she had planned to run to, but for once she was grateful that her feet just seemed to know where to go. The only problem now was that she had no way inside. The studio was framed behind another, smaller gate, and while Allison thought she might be able to climb it, she could do nothing with her hands bound behind her back. She sat down on a park bench, cursing loudly.

This sucked.

It only took a moment of sitting for the situation to hit Allison. She went from growling in frustration, trying to pry free her hands from her bonds, to sulking and leaning forward on the bench, biting her lip again.

Just what the hell was going on here? What had Joey done? Why was Alice, her darling little angel, deformed in such a twisted way? Who was the Follower, and why did he seem to hate the angel so much? Who was his lord? What had he meant by making Allison a sacrifice, and would he try to find her again?

She was in over her head. She never should have tried to go in alone. In her anger and panic, she'd rushed into this situation without thinking, without coming up with a plan, and now, she was just as trapped as Tom might be. She was trapped in a park, alone, without even having told anyone that this was where she'd be going. She didn't go to the police, she didn't try to call Joey to demand answers from the safety of her home, she didn't do anything. She just rushed in. She didn't even have her pepper spray.

Allison shook her head, sniffing slightly. "No, Allison, you are not going to cry like a baby. You just have to think. Just...just think for a moment, and try to figure out a way out of this mess. The first order of business is getting out of these ropes," she said aloud, wincing when she realized just how tight they really were. They were started to dig into her skin a little, and they itched like crazy. Not to mention they were behind her back, so she couldn't even see what kind of knot it was. She looked around for something sharp, anything, really, that might be used to cut it, but this was a public amusement park where families and children frequented. Of course there weren't any sharp objects just lying around. Joey may be careless, but he's not stupid. He knew lawsuits were a thing to worry about.

Allison sighed, moving her knees up from the ground to the seat in front of her. She really wished Tom were here. He'd know what to do. But no. She was on her own. She was going to save Tom. She just had to figure out how to save herself first.

More footsteps, the same uniform clacking as before, sounded to her right, and Allison leaped to her feet in a panic, scrambling out of the chair to face the noise. "W-who's there?!" she shouted. "I'm warning you, stay back!"

The footsteps paused. Hesitant. Lingering. And then moved closer to her. Allison scowled at the figure who peered cautiously at her from the shadows. Moonlight illuminated his form. Two floppy ears and a long snout. Big, blinking, cartoon eyes. She wasn't sure how he was here, when he was supposed to be dead, but Sammy did say Joey had a way of making more of them.

"Listen here you freak," she shouted to Boris. "Don't you dare come any closer to me!"


	5. Chapter 5: Shh! Don't Raise Your Voice!

**Chapter 5: Shh! Don't Raise Your Voice!**

Allison glared over at the Boris sitting next to her. This was crazy. She shouldn't be trusting one of _them, _especially considering she had just heard that the Boris was killed. To have another pop up out of nowhere made her more than a little nervous. She thought about trying to run or try to fight him, but she wouldn't have gotten very far on either parts with her hands bound behind her back the way they were. He'd put both of his hands up in the air, what would normally look like an act of surrender, but one of those hands had a knife. He must have seen the panic flash in front of her eyes, because he slowly put the knife down in front of her and backed away.

It felt like a trap. He hadn't gone far and was just...watching her. It was unsettling, but she figured even if it was a trap, at least she could get out of the ropes. She'd moved slow, picking up the knife and carefully balancing it to cut away the ropes. He'd stepped forward a bit when he saw her struggling, maybe to help, but she'd yelled at him to back off, and he stayed away. Finally, she was free of those ropes. She sighed and rubbed her wrists, wincing at the bright red marks. She looked over at the Boris, whose ears perked up once she was free.

"...if you're wanting this knife back, it's not going to happen," she said, picking it up and sticking it in her pocket.

He shook his head, and she waited for him to say more, but then winced.

"Oh. That's right, Boris doesn't talk."

He shook his head. He didn't look like the others did at night. She thought that Bendy was the only one with a terrifying appearance after dark, but seeing Alice proved otherwise. The thought still made her heart ache. Her precious Alice, twisted into that monster...

Allison ran a hand through her hair, not really sure what to do next. She knew she had to act fast though, it was only a matter of time before that mad Follower found her, or that crazy Alice. Or worse. She knew Bendy wandered this park at night too, and as terrifying as they other two were, Bendy scared her more than anything else. No, she needed to find Tom and get out of here. Maybe find a place to hide for a little bit, maybe make the Follower and Alice think she'd run off for good. She wasn't sure.

Boris took a step forward, opening his mouth. She immediately took a step back. When no sound came out, he reached up and touched his throat, then lowered his head.

"Stay away from me," Allison said hesitantly. "Just because you helped me get free doesn't mean I trust you, Boris."

He winced. She almost felt bad, but it was true. If those other two had terrifying night forms, she couldn't doubt that this Boris had one too. She couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust any of them, not with how twisted this whole park and situation was. She once again found herself mentally cursing Joey and this awful place. How was he doing this? Sure, he'd built up a park, but at what cost? Was there ever a point where Joey had asked himself if he'd gone too far?

She heard a shriek from nearby, far too close to comfort, and cursed. With her back turned, Boris had grabbed her arm and was pulling her along. She immediately turned, reaching for her knife, and he paused, letting her go again and raising his hands. He pointed back toward the studio.

"You...want me to go with you?" Allison asked.

He nodded.

"...you can get me into the studio?"

Boris paused this time, then nodded.

"Well...alright then. Take me to the studio. I'll follow you," she said.

He turned and headed into the trees toward a maintenance tunnel Allison didn't have a key for, but Boris slipped inside easily. She followed him into the dark path, closing the door behind her and wondering once again just what she had gotten herself into this time.

* * *

Having her here was torture. Just what was she doing here anyway?! Hadn't he told her to leave Joey Drew Studios, to never come back?

Maybe Joey had done something to her, dragged her here after hours.

Yeah. He wished that was the case, but he had a feeling that his message to Allison hadn't caused its intended reaction. If she were here, looking like she were ready to raise hell, it was because she thought she could save him.

It was too late for that now.

It was all ink, all darkness, all cold and terrible smelling and black and it made him dizzy, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up knowing that he was Boris. It seeped into his bones, his being, voices tugging and pulling at his mind, all his and never his at the same time. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to remember who he really was. Maybe Joey had intended for him to be Boris and nothing else, but that wasn't what happened.

Or maybe Joey knew he wouldn't be able to speak either way, and just didn't care, because he was just a Boris, just a dime a dozen.

But he also knew he was Tom. Not that he could tell that to Allison of course. He couldn't speak. Couldn't even make a sound. He didn't even have vocal cords anymore. He had other organs, but Boris didn't have a voice in the show. Just like Bendy, they were silent, never speaking a word. Because of it, the inky form that he now wielded reflected the cartoon reality. He couldn't speak. Couldn't really do anything.

Well, he knew how to play the banjo now, which was a little unsettling. He just, like...knew, now.

Honestly, he hadn't had much time to process what had happened. Get used to this new body and the odd thoughts that were swirling around in his mind, some of them his and some of them Boris's and some of them both of theirs. It was hard to form a difference, and he was already worried he'd lose himself to it. He'd gotten some cryptic message from Joey about avoiding Alice, and he'd been furious at Joey but he, he found that he couldn't even form a coherent thought of doing anything to him. It was like a wall was built up preventing him from even wanting to get revenge or think badly of Joey. It made him mad, mad at himself, that he couldn't take his anger out on Joey, all he could do was try to absorb all of the new orders and tasks he was rambling off. They were sinking in, he knew they were, he knew he was being molded into some new identity like clay, but he also wasn't really paying much attention either.

And then he'd left the studio, after Joey left too of course, just kind of...wandering. Just kind of trying to figure out how to move these feet and work with these new limbs and try to process what had happened. Maybe he was in shock? He certainly wasn't a doctor or anything like that. Hell, Tom hated going to the doctor, but he thought this might be shock, this odd, numb feeling he had all over him.

Tom. He kept saying that name to himself. Tom, Tom, Tom.

He was scared he might forget it. He was scared it might slip away and he'd be nothing but Boris, but not just Boris, just..._a_ Boris. How long until he'd be replaced? How long until his identity slipped away from him, wind between his fingertips, out of grasp and flying away. Would he grow to forget everything? Forget who he was, his name, his life? Allison? He hoped he wouldn't forget her. Even if it was painful to remember her at times, even when her face brought him fresh waves of sadness and longing, he never wanted to forget her face. Even if he forgot his own name. Forgetting her, forgetting why he had punished himself with this hell, would be too cruel.

Ink and imagination clouded his mind. To be someone else's creation was an odd sort of thing. Thoughts came and went, but they were always questioned, something deep within the surface checking to make sure it was in character, it was what was meant to be. A character forgetting they were an actor. Unsettling.

And then he saw Allison. His feet had seemed to carry him to her, even without knowing she was there. But she was, sitting on a bench, looking like she was trying not to cry. Her hands were bound behind her back, maybe Joey did it? And she looked scared. Angry too, but that's part of how Allison showed that she was scared. She got angry.

Whether or not he was in shock before didn't matter now. He was frozen, staring at her with so many feelings bubbling up that he couldn't begin to pick them apart and evaluate them one by one, so he chose hope and clung to it.

So many things he wished he could say to her. So many words lingering on his tongue that had no air to produce any noise.

How could he have been so stupid before, when he had a voice, when he had the chance to tell her how amazing he thought she was, how she was the type of woman he could only dream to stand beside, how she was so much more than the "pretty dish" that Joey called her. But he couldn't. He couldn't even say her name, something once so precious to him, his favorite sound aside from her laugh, he couldn't even whisper that to himself when he was scared and alone. No. He was forced into silence. He was forced to sit with all of these feelings and words he'd never been able to muster before.

He'd approached her. He wasn't sure why. Did he want to try to tell her the truth? Who he really was? Seeing her hate-filled glances as they walked along was ripping him apart, but this was easier. Not for him, but maybe for her. To not know the truth about who he was. So he'd play along. He'd play Boris. Just another friendly Boris, leading along his angel, Orpheus leading Eurydice out of Hades and trying so hard not to look back, not to just glance at her face, slip up and find a way to tell her the truth, just to have something between them again for only an instance.

No. He wouldn't doom her here, with him. He'd get her out somehow. For now, he wanted to focus on just keeping her alive until dawn. He hadn't run into Alice yet, hadn't quite understood why Joey warned him against her, but even thinking of Bendy made him tremble.

He just hoped they could avoid the inky devil a little while longer. Just a few more hours until sunrise.

* * *

After a few moments, Allison and Boris managed to get back inside the studio. It looked the same as it did during the day, surprising Allison a bit. She expected the whole place to change at night, much like the outside park did. She expected flickering lights, creepy noises, ink puddles all over the flood, but the studio was surprisingly just as well kept as it was during the day. Framed pictures of promotional posters and advertisements lined the halls next to autographs and slogans. Joey loved his slogans and propaganda. "Keep working!" "Keep smiling!" Joey was determined to hide behind his self-created lies, blinding himself to the frowns and exhaustion lingering behind forced smiles and weary eyes.

He told himself that he was a good businessman, but they all knew it wasn't true. Even Joey did, and Allison wondered if that wasn't the reason he hung up so many posters in the first place, a final piece of overcompensation.

Allison put her hands on her hips and turned to Boris, who flinched and looked away from her sharp gaze. "You can leave now," she said. "You got me to where I needed to go. I'd rather you didn't stick around."

His ears lowered and he hung his head. Ugh... Why did he have to look so disarmingly sad? Boris was meant to be one of the comic relief characters, but here, he just looked like a sad puppy dog she'd tossed back out on the street.

But the one thing this studio had taught her above all else was that looks could be deceiving.

Allison sighed. "Thank you for your help. But I really just need to find my friend and get out of here."

She started walking down a random hall, no real direction in mind. She just needed to be making some sort of progress and get away from the Boris. Heading to Joey's office was her first step. She looked back over her shoulder, watched as Boris lingered in the doorway. She saw his frame hesitate, constantly debating whether or not he should follow her or not. He took one step, but her harsh gaze made him take two steps back. So he didn't follow her. He just watched her disappear around the corner before grabbing his head in his hands and trying again to find a way to make words with a voice that didn't exist.

Allison, however, kept walking, occasionally reaching back for the knife she'd tucked into her pocket. It made her feel safer, even if only a little bit. If she was cornered by the follower, Alice, or even Bendy, she'd at least have some small way of defending herself, though she wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of having to fight one of them. Hearing Tom's earlier description of these creatures having organs was...unsettling.

Tom. Where were you? What had happened to you? she thought to herself, all while urging her feet to move onward, one after the other. She was getting exhausted, but she wasn't about to give up, not without finding Tom or at least figuring out some clues as to where he had gone or what happened to him. She refused to let him just disappear. As soon as she found him, they'd both get out of here.

She reached Joey's office quicker than she expected, but the distance always seemed smaller when her mind was elsewhere. She peeked inside and sure enough, the lights were off and Joey was gone. She slipped in through the doors, looking back over her shoulder to make sure the Boris, or any other cartoons, hadn't followed her. Satisfied that she was alone, at least temporarily, she flicked the lights on and started sifting through documents on his desk. It was more than a little disorganized, and Allison knew his poor secretary must have a fit every morning she comes in and sees the mess. Bills pushed off to the side, ideas for new rides scratched down on memos or in the corners of legal documents, law suits filed away without a care in the world, advertising and marketing plans, it was all the regular sort of business mumbo-jumbo she'd left behind in the financing department.

It didn't surprise her than the more important documents would be sealed away elsewhere, somewhere away from prying eyes, but even after Allison poured over filing cabinets, nearly dumping their contents on the ground to sift through them, she couldn't find anything. And she was getting frustrated.

There was one other drawer on Joey's large desk that she hadn't managed to open. It was locked, but loose. With a bit of prying, she could probably force it open, but then Joey would know for sure someone had been rummaging around with his stuff. It probably wouldn't take him too long to at least narrow down a few possibilities of who might do such a thing, herself included.

Allison was willing to take that risk because, hopefully, she wouldn't be around to face Joey's wrath after today. She'd find Tom, and get out. Allison shoved the knife she'd taken from the Boris into the lining of the drawer and heaved, popping the lock off with one solid, cheap thunk. She smirked to herself, just another example of why Joey shouldn't buy cheap just to save a few bucks. She opened the drawer and immediately began sifting through the much more carefully organized contents.

Names. Numbers? These were reports of some kind. Termination reports? Maybe, but something was off, something about the wording struck her as strange. They were labeled as terminations, yet they were filed as if they were transfers to other departments. Department of cartoon management? She'd never heard of that department before, as far as she knew, "cartoon management" was all taken care of by the security Joey hired to keep the place running, and even then, the cartoons were hardly managed at all. Both during the day and night, they all seemed to be left to their own devices. Allison hungrily scanned the documents, flipping through them, searching for anything that could be useful. Was this what Tom was talking about? A hidden department?

Butcher Gang members, file after file of Boris's. Apparently they needed a lot of transfers and terminations. Some of these names she thought she recognized, but wasn't sure, they were either too familiar and she doubted herself, or not familiar enough. Transferred from the maintenance crew, transferred from security, transferred from concessions.

Allison sighed and sat back in Joey's desk chair, running a hand through her hair. This didn't seem to have anything to do with Tom. Why was it locked away anyway? She put the folder away, tired of trying to find meaning in the madness, and pulled out the last folder that sat underneath the rest. She flipped it open, and paused.

The lost ones?

Her eyes widened.

Were these...park guests who had gone missing?

There had to be at least twenty files...how the hell was Joey covering this up?

Names and faces, anything from children to adults, all filed with news clippings of missing people or kidnapping alerts. She remembered the first file, it had been quite an uproar actually, a little boy that had wandered away from his parents and then was lost. They couldn't find him anywhere, couldn't find anything, and they'd searched everywhere. Even Allison had joined the search, but she didn't remember uncovering even the smallest bit of evidence as to what could have happened. The park was closed early and the police were called to search the premises, all while the cartoons just stood smiling in the corners, trying to perform for officers who had other things to do.

Allison swallowed the lump in her throat, and shakily returned the files to their folder and put them back in the desk. She placed her hands on the wood, trying to steady herself as the room started to spin.

She wasn't sure what she expected, but this was far more terrifying than she ever could have imagined. Joey Drew wasn't just running a twisted empire, he was covering up missing children cases. But Allison had only heard a few of the names. That meant that the news had only gotten a hold of a few of them. After all, if people kept going missing in a park over and over again, there would be an uproar. But Joey had somehow managed to sweep everything under the rug. How? And more importantly, what had happened to them?

Could there be a serial killer in the midst of the park? Was it Joey himself, or...

She shuddered as she felt a shadow pass over her. She recognized the hissing noise before she felt the ink drink on top of her head and trail down her back. She bit her lip to keep from whimpering, and slowly turned around.

She didn't think smiles were going to cut it this time.

* * *

Henry yawned and sat up from his bed, rubbing his eyes. Another restless night. Another night lying awake, plagued by odd dreams and nightmares that he could never remember or pinpoint when he regained consciousness. They always slipped away right at the end, no matter how much he felt like there was something important lying beyond the surface, something he needed to remember when he returned to reality. But it was gone.

He glanced over at Linda, who was still sound asleep next to him, and softly smiled. She could sleep through anything, a trait he was grateful for. He'd feel guilty if she woke up every time he'd stumbled out of bed in the wee hours of the morning. He leaned over to kiss the top of her head and then stood, stretching a bit before heading out to make himself a cup of coffee. He was up, so he might as well stay awake. He made his cup of joe then headed out onto the porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the still dark sky. It was early to be sure, so early that the birds had yet to rise from their nests and greet the world. The sky was still shades of dark hues, littered with stars still too stubborn to disappear under the morning light.

He took a long drink, mulling over his thoughts and the things he _could_ remember from his nightmares. He was always pretty sure it had something to do with Bendyland.

Maybe it was his lingering regrets with Joey that manifested in his dreams, maybe it was wishing he should have stayed, stuck it out to see the park make it big. Or maybe he just felt guilty abandoning his once old friend.

Henry didn't regret his decision to leave the studio, even after it got popular. Joey was a good man, at least Henry thought he was, but that studio had changed him. He got desperate, consumed with the need to be something greater than what he once was, a poor kid selling newspapers on the streetsides. That's how they had met, after all. Henry was just a kid as well, painting shop logos and signs on windows with fresh, foul smelling paint, and Joey, rambling on and on to any passerby who would listen about the great stories the news had to tell today. They were just two kids, dreaming of better lives, of making something of themselves.

For Henry, that something was Linda, and he could adamantly say he was proud of how far he had come and what his life had turned into. Sure, he may have had to stop animating, but living his life with the woman he loved? Nothing could replace that.

Henry hoped that with Bendyland, Joey had found what he had been searching for too, whatever his dream was. Years ago, Joey told Henry that his dream was to make it big, be a household name that could bring smiles to millions of faces. With Bendyland, he seemed to have accomplished that, but Henry wasn't so sure. Joey had lost sight of his dream a while ago, it became less about the smiles, and all about the money, about proving himself to some invisible force. Proving that he had what it took, that he could be so much more than what he was. It was hard for Henry to watch, and after a while, he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take seeing his old friend bent over a desk, wiping the sleep from his eyes, trying to find the money to fund his ideas and dreams, but it never happened.

Henry couldn't take it anymore and left. Did he feel guilty? Sure. He'd never forget Joey's face when he handed in his resignation. The way his face fell immediately, and the quiet, silent acceptance as he took the form. He didn't even say goodbye, and Henry hadn't been able to face Joey since, even after the park got big.

Maybe that should change, Henry thought to himself. Maybe he should visit that park after all. Go see how Joey was doing. See if that life had returned to his eyes, see if he was finally happy with who he was again.

"Nightmares again?"

Henry smiled as Linda wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face into his back. "Yeah. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No, I woke up on my own and saw that you were gone again, so I decided to get up too," she said. "Whatcha thinking about out here, all by yourself?"

Henry paused, considering telling her, considering asking if they could both take a trip to the park, take a day trip out with a packed lunch to see just how bit the park had become. But something stopped him. They lived a modest life, the two of them. Would Linda think less of him, knowing that Henry gave up a job that could have led to something so big and grand as Bendyland?

No. That wasn't fair to think that of her. She was better than that. He was just trying to come up with excuses so he wouldn't have to face his fears.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am," he said, turning to wrap her up in his arms, feel the warm of her embrace against the cool morning air. She smiled and led him inside, and Henry gave one last glance outside, one last frown toward the night air, before closing the door to the darkness and his thoughts of Bendyland.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay, I hit some writer's block with this chapter. The next one might be a bit out as well, I really want to nail down a timeline of events for this story before continuing too far. Don't worry though, once I get a rough event list created, chapters will be created much, MUCH more frequently. Thanks for following the story, and thanks for all of the positive reviews so far! I'm glad I've been able to capture that same, wonderful, unique style that the original Bendy and the Ink Machine game has (who else is SUPER excited for more Bendy and the Dark Revival news?!)**

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6: Clocking In or Clocking Out

**Chapter 6: Clocking In or Clocking Out**

She pushed the desk chair back into him and sprinted for the door. She heard Bendy hiss as the chair made contact with a sticky, wet sound. She didn't dare look back, she knew he was behind her. The walls started turning shades of black and gray, indicators of his anger. The tendrils reached out for her, grabbing at her shadow. She ditched the shoes halfway through her mad dash, deciding they were the least of her problems. She rounded the corner, heading for the exit. Maybe if she made it out to open air, she could get away.

Maybe she should have just smiled and played it off like she usually did when facing Bendy, but there was something about the look on his face that was different. Curious. Hungry. All instincts she'd faced before and brushed aside of wanting to run from a monster surfaced and overtook her until the sound of her feet on wooden floors was the only thing she heard.

He chased after her, fast, but not quite as fast as her. He limped toward her, one gloved arm outstretched, his jagged grin twitching and releasing snaps and whines. Walls or doors did little to stop him.

Allison burst out into the open air. Boris, who was seated outside, looked up immediately, ears perking up in confusion. She didn't pause to tell him why she was running, she just sprinted passed him and reached the gate separating the studio from the rest of the park. She spun around, but the Boris was just cowering in the corner, covering his head with his hands. Bendy stood at the top of the stairs. It tilted its head at her, taking slower steps to her now. She pulled out her knife and pointed it at him.

"Stay away from me!" she shouted.

He paused. He made a breathy noise, and walked toward her again.

Her hands, clutched around the knife, trembled. She wasn't sure what a knife would do against him, but they had organs, right? They could die? She wasn't sure if Bendy was included in that equation, but she wasn't going down without a fight. She felt a laugh bubble up in her throat at the thought of Joey coming back tomorrow morning to see his precious cartoon with a few scars on his body and a broken Allison at his feet. He'd probably be more upset about the scars on Bendy.

He took another step toward her and she stabbed forward with her knife. To her horror, the knife sank uselessly into his skin. She tried to tug it free, but the ink latched on tightly, crawling up her hands.

Bendy growled down at her, sounding too much like laughter deep inside, and reached out for her throat, covering that, too, in ink.

Allison made a choked noise, unable to even claw at his hands. Oh God, this was it, she was going to die.

She heard a loud "thump," and looked over Bendy's shoulder to see the Boris standing there, an iron pipe in his hands. He'd smacked Bendy's head with it, and she saw Boris's eyes narrow as he swung again at the ink demon.

Bendy spun around and hissed, causing the Boris to flinch, but giving Allison just a moment of freedom, a moment to breathe as Bendy's hands released her throat. The Boris backed up, smacking the pipe against his hands, a taunt, a challenge. Bendy took the bait, releasing her and stalking toward him. Allison coughed, reaching up to her throat to feel cold ink still covering it. She looked up to see the Boris take another swing at Bendy, only for the demon to slash out, knocking the pipe away and knocking Boris to the ground. Bendy raised his hand, claws forming out of the ink, poised above his head.

Boris turned his head from Bendy to look at her. Just at her. And...he smiled.

Why did her heart hurt? Why...why was he...

_"I'm the cutest little angel, sent from above, and I know just how to sing."_

Bendy froze. He growled, tilting his head and turning to look at her.

No backing down now. She swallowed, clearing her throat and lifting her head up again.

_"I got a bright little halo, and I'm filled with love. I'm Alice Angel!"_

Bendy turned from Boris and headed back over to her, nodding his head to the beat, like a child caught in a trance. She kept singing, she knew the words by heart. He just watched her, towering over her with rapt attention. It wasn't perfect, her voice cracked and she missed a few notes, but considering this was the most stressful performance she'd ever given, she hoped that could be overlooked. When she finished, he growled, reaching out for her throat.

"No," she said sternly. He paused, and she repeated herself sternly. "NO."

He looked at her, smile faltering for only a moment. She supposed he hadn't heard those words often.

Maybe it would work, she thought briefly. Maybe she'd be alright, maybe she could use this influence, use her voice to confuse him enough to leave them alone, or get away.

It was a nice thought, but soon ripped away as Bendy overcame his hesitation, grabbing her roughly and jerking her toward the studio. She screamed and fought back, flailing and slashing, but he dragged them both into a pool of black ink. She was overcome with the cold, wet feeling, and whether it was the ink of her own consciousness that faded her vision, she wasn't sure.

* * *

Allison stirred. She was cold. Something wet stuck to her hair and cheek. This wasn't home. Too cold. Too wrong. She didn't hear the sound of cars driving by or birds, or even Cheese demanding she wake up and feed him breakfast. There was only the distant hum of machinery, the ever-constant thrum of ink flowing through pipes that she could hear above her and feel below her through the cheap, laminated wooden floors. She groaned and pushed herself upward slowly.

"Ah, good morning Allison! You've been asleep for quite a while!"

Joey sat across from her at a small table, his arms crossed plainly in front of him. Suit nicely pressed, white collar buttoned up all the way to the top. His hair, carefully groomed and waxed, finished off the signature friendly face she'd grown accustomed to seeing on display monitors and television screens. She herself, once she had sat up enough to look around, was in a makeshift medic bay, or was it a cell? Wooden planks haphazardly hammered together separated her from Joey, though the door was open. She was seated on a small cot with a pillow and a blanket, both of which were covered in ink.

And Bendy. He sat behind Joey, seat on the headrest of a large, plush chair. His disarmingly cute, smiling face tilted at her, and his feet kicked back and forth on the seat. He was back to his smaller, cartoon-y form that sent children into wild giggles and laughter. Allison narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention back to Joey.

"I'm glad to see that you're alright. Why, when Bendy here found you, you'd collapsed onto the ground! Did you stay up too late working with Sammy and just fall asleep before you could get home?" Joey chuckled. "No no, because that wouldn't explain why Bendy found you in my office."

Allison swallowed, frantically trying to come up with an excuse. Part of her wanted to accuse him right now of doing something to Tom, confronting him with what she had found about missing persons at the park, or even the horrible monstrosities she'd seen after dark. But every accusation felt dwarfed when she glanced over at Bendy, aimlessly looking about the room. She might not be scared of Joey himself, but she was damned scared of what he, or Bendy, could do. "I-"

Joey held up his hand. "Now now Allison, I'm sure you're quite disoriented. What, passing out right there in my office. I just want to make sure you're alright, first and foremost. I'm glad that Bendy found you, but as you can imagine, he isn't quite used to knowing how humans work. If you were a cartoon like him, it'd be much different."

"Y-Yes, I'm sure it would," she said softly.

"So I ask again, Miss Pendle. What were you doing here in the park, so late at night?" Joey asked.

"I..."

Was looking for Tom? Was riddling through your things without permission? Was running from horrible monstrosities, one of which was seated right behind you, like a loyal lapdog waiting to attack? Was in way over her head?

"I was looking for some financial records for Sammy," Allison said, lies spilling from her lips before she could stop them, picking up speed and coming out in a rush of syllables and sounds. "I used to work in the Finance department, remember? O-of course you remember, you hired me, but I knew where some documents were still and Sammy wanted to know what his budget was this month, he wanted to know if he could purchase some more sheet music, so I volunteered to go check. I must have just fallen asleep," she said, fighting the urge to laugh, knowing it would sound hysterical.

Joey smiled, listening to her rant. "I just knew there had to be an explanation. Well, I'm just glad that you're alright. Let's get you out of there." He unlocked her cell, allowing Allison to step out. "I'd be sure to thank Bendy for bringing you to safety."

"R-right," Allison said, her eyes avoiding Joey's piercing stare. Like hell she was going to thank a walking menace. But Joey was watching, and she had a feeling he wouldn't let her off the hook without some display of gratitude, a show of her good will, no hard feelings, blah blah blah. She turned to Bendy and sighed. "Thank you for..." she clammed up suddenly, her face growing white.

"Oh, what's wrong Allison? You're looking rather pale," Joey said, sitting back in his seat and spinning around to face them. "Not feeling so well after all?"

"You told me to never speak in front of Bendy," she said. Could she make her voice quieter? Was there any way for Joey to hear her, and this toon, who had turned to look at her curiously again, so not? He just kept staring. His pie-cut eyes seemed so innocent, but they held a pool of darkness that tugged at mortal men's souls, the kind of black that felt like it wasn't natural, not of this world. Ink was like that. It felt less like the color of something, and more like the absence of everything.

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" Joey chuckled. "But it seems you break a lot of the rules I put into place here, don't you?"

She needed to leave. Now. Things were going from bad to worse, and Allison had a feeling that if she kept pressing her luck, she'd never get the chance to save Tom. She started walking for the door, her legs shaking with the urge to not break out into an all-out mad sprint. Right as her hand gripped the knob, she heard Joey stand.

"Miss Allison?"

_Run, Allison, just run, don't look back, get away!_

She turned, forcing a smile with wide, gritted teeth. "Yes Mr. Drew?"

He put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look up at him and his cheesy, picture perfect grin. The true father to the smiling devil.

"Let's keep what you read on those documents today between the two of us, hm?" he said.

She felt cold all over, wobbly and unsteady, but Joey left the room, whistling a song, her song, Alice's song, before Bendy hopped off of the chair and chased after him a moment later. Allison slumped down to the floor, feeling her heart beating in her chest, fighting the urge to vomit or scream or cry. With shaky hands, she pulled herself back up again, and made her way to the recording studio. Whether she liked it or not, she still had work to do.

* * *

After everything that had happened the night before, Allison was thrilled to find that Sammy was busy working with the band today. She retreated back into her own office, a small room that was more a refurbished storage closet than anything else, but it had a door with a lock and a small desk. She hadn't decorated it much, but that was mainly because she was hardly ever there. She didn't see the point in decorating walls she barely looked at, or taking things from her home to make the space feel homey. Her home was homey enough! The only real reason she had an office was because it was part of her contract that Joey wrote up. If he provided her with an office, he was allowed another paycut. So of course, he got her an office.

Figures.

She flopped onto her rickety desk chair, fiddling with the handle at the side to try to lower it, only to have it snap off in her hands.

She almost reached for the phone to call Tom, but her outstretched fingers fell flat against the desk halfway there.

Tom...where were you? What was happening here? Were you just another name that she had missed among the miles of papers? Another missing person? She wasn't sure if she'd get the chance to check again, surely Joey was smart enough to get a lock for the drawer or file them away somewhere else, somewhere hidden, now that he knew without a doubt that she was snooping around.

Perhaps she should have been more concerned with Joey's calm demeanor, given how she had thoroughly betrayed him and was seeking to find out the truth, but she was too tired to care. Whatever Joey had up her sleeve could wait until she had a few more hours of sleep, or at least a cup of coffee. Her mind was too empty to try to fill it up with memories of the night before or pieces of evidence.

Allison set her head down on the desk, allowing herself the privilege of drifting off, just for a few minutes at least. A few minutes were all she needed. Then she'd get back to work on finding Tom and getting out of Bendyhell.

A knock on her door roused her. She glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. She'd only just closed her eyes, hadn't she?

No, it was already early afternoon, prime park time. She stood, stretching a moment before heading over to the door and opening it to see Sammy's similarly tired expression.

"Hello Sammy," she said with a yawn. "I'm sorry, I didn't intend on sleeping so long..."

Sammy chuckled. "Long night, I presume?"

"You have no idea," she muttered, and put a hand to her forehead.

Sammy frowned and crossed his arms. "Allison, are you alright? You're covered in ink and you look exhausted. You're never normally this desheveled. On top of that, your voice is far too hoarse, much moreso than normal."

"I just..." she trailed off, hating the way her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. "No, I'm fine."

"Well, I suppose it isn't my place to pry," Sammy said. "But I am here, Allison. If you ever need someone to talk to, or just need some help in general. I'd hoped that we'd have come to the point by now where we can consider each other friends. Maybe I'm overstepping," he added quickly.

Allison chuckled. Curse Sammy and his disarming charm. Half the time, she didn't even think he did it on purpose. Sure, there were times when his velvety words were clearly scripted and crafted, rehearsed just like any musical number to draw in all kinds of people, be it donors, listeners, or even the occasional woman or two he brought into the studio to show off. But there were other times when he was charming by accident. Going from yelling at the band to working with them one on one, encouraging even the most hopeless musician Joey hired to work out their true potential. Times where he would go out, straighten up the band chairs or take time after work to clean them, just because he could. She'd even caught him watching Bendy cartoons before in his office that didn't feature his songs, just watching Bendy dance across the screen with a slight, upturned smile on his lips.

Joey was the only one who always seemed unamused or disgruntled by his charms. Allison had a feeling that's why they never seemed to get along.

Maybe she really could confide in him. Maybe she really could tell Sammy what had happened. Two heads were better than one, and he had already confessed that he'd listened to more than audio recording on his own time before. Maybe, just maybe, he knew something that could be useful.

"Do you have somewhere we can go, to be alone?" Allison asked.

Sammy raised an eyebrow and nodded, taking her to a sound-proof recording booth normally reserved for recording individual instruments, like flute solos or violin numbers. She glanced around the padded walls and Bendy cut-out in the corner, eyeing it with visible disdain, before turning back to Sammy.

And she told him everything. At first, it was only bits and pieces, dancing around the subject with him chasing after her circles persistently. She'd let something slip and he'd be on it instantly, poking and proding with a barrage of questions she often didn't have any answers too, but she answered him all the same. By the end of it, she was telling him everything, her encounters with Bendy before that night and on it, what she'd read in Joey's files, her recording from Tom, how scared she felt. Part of her hated it, hated that she was asking someone else for help when she knew she could do things on her own, but not this. This was bigger than her. She couldn't go to battle for Tom alone, pride needed to be cast aside if she was going to find out what happened to him and what was going on with the park.

Sammy placed his chin on his hands, crossed in front of him. His eyes stared into the floor, brow furrowed slightly. "Hmmm...it seems this is far bigger than you originally thought," he said.

"I just don't know what to do now," she confessed. "I came to the park after dark to find Tom, but all I found were more questions and no sign of him. He might be...he might be dead for all I know. But I _need_ to know for sure. I need to have answers, and I need to keep hoping that he's out there somewhere."

Sammy sighed. "I don't know Allison, this is all sounding like a big mess. Are you sure Tom didn't just quit?"

"After everything that's happened to me, you still think that's an option?" she asked.

"No. I don't. I guess I just wanted to know if you would ever be willing to believe that, or if you'd keep looking and looking until you found your answers or your demise. This is dangerous," he said.

"I know. But what else can I do? There's no one I can turn to, no one who has the answers. I need to find them on my own. Well, not entirely alone," she said, and smiled. "I've got you now. Hope you don't mind I've dragged you into this."

Sammy chuckled. "I've been putting the pieces together myself for years."

"The audio tapes?"

"You're smart, Miss Allison."

"Is there anything in them I could use?" she asked. "A starting point, somewhere to look, anything that you know of?"

"Hmmmm..." Sammy tapped his chin. "I'm not sure. Even I haven't listened to _all _of them. But there might be somebody of note." Sammy walked over to stand in the corner of the recording room and pulled out a sheet of paper and pen. He made a note and handed it to her. "You might look into this name here. He used to work at the studio, but he didn't leave like Tom did. He left before this place ever became Bendyland, long before you got here either," he said. "His name is Henry. From what I've gathered, he kind of started this whole studio with Joey. He even created Bendy, drew him up and everything. For whatever reason though, he left, and Joey does whatever he can to pretend he doesn't exist. He even ordered me to erase his tapes. Not that I didn't give them a listen first of course."

Allison took the paper and looked over the name. "How can he help?"

"He might not be able to," Sammy said. "But I think there's something to be said for the employees who leave this place willingly. Plus, if he was as close to Joey as I think he was, there's no way he can't know some of the things going on behind closed doors. It might be a good starting point at least."

Allison tucked the paper away. "Thank you, Sammy. I appreciate your help and just you listening to me today. You're...taking this all pretty well."

Sammy chuckled. "I'm nothing if not adaptable. And like I said, I've had a feeling there have been things moving behind the scenes for a while." He stood and headed for the door. "Let me know if you need any other favors, Miss Allison. I'll be sure to call on that favor of mine very soon."

Allison froze, halfway rising out of her own chair. Her blood ran cold. "What did you say?"

Sammy smiled, looking at her from over his shoulder. She swallowed, the reality of her situation crashing around her and threatening to wash her away.

"A favor," he repeated. "You already owe me one. I'd say after giving you all of this information, you owe me two now."

Then he left, and when Allison finally had the strength to leave the room, Sammy, the Follower, was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

**Shorter chapter this time, but I like it :) Slowly but surely getting some ideas together. Sorry for the long wait between chapters, thank you for your patience!**

**Also, I hit over 1000 views! Whoohoo! Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7: The Angel and the Artist

**Chapter 7: The Angel and the Artist**

Allison lingered on the bench near Bertrum's carousel. The line was long, it always was. Fathers, mothers, children, and young couples in love all lined up to crawl into a spinning cart for a few minutes. She turned her gaze to the bacon soup stand, more families lined up for a taste. Bendy balloons floated by and the pavement was littered with confetti carnage and melted stains of ice cream.

She blended into the background, as interesting as a streetlamp or loose cobblestone brick to these people. She had the bench to herself, and yet still found herself sitting to the right. She left the space beside her open. Just in case Tom were to come along. Just in case he were to walk out of the woodwork. Wipe oil from his forehead, give her a nervous half smile. Sit beside her and listen to her lament about where she was and what she'd gone through. Then, he'd offer a few words of encouragement. He'd agree that Joey was an ass. He'd offer to buy her a cup of coffee. They'd laugh at some corny joke or pun. And then they'd be on their way. Back to work. Back to their lives.

She kept her gaze to the maintenance hatch around the corner. Waiting. Praying he really would walk through it. But when the door opened, another nameless worker walked through instead, and Allison let the stifling noise of the crowds drown out the pounding of her heartbeat.

"ALLISON ANGEL'S SHOW BEGINS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES! TICKETS ON SALE NOW!"

She glanced up at the TV monitor above her, Allison's cartoon form giggling and dancing back and forth. The perfect little angel with a voice like heaven.

A lie.

Bendy's show followed. He'd dance to music, play pranks, throw pies or reenact cartoons. Boris usually joined those shows. Bendy and Alice never had a show together, since they never appeared in the cartoons together. She wasn't quite as popular as him anyway, but she was getting there. There was a time Sammy said that Allison could thank herself for that. That she brought new "life" to the character.

Another lie.

Years ago, she stood beside Joey Drew and the other actors when they cut the golden ribbon for the park's grand opening. She'd put on her Sunday best. Alice, Bendy, and Boris also stood on the stage. Front and center, or course. Alice and the producers, donors, and Gent Corp. higher ups stood alongside each other, equal importance in Joey's eyes. Tom and the other workers were in the audience. Paid to cheer, of course, not that the cheers weren't already loud enough. Joey's smile had seemed earnest that day. There was a life in his eyes, a way that his smile rose that was just awkward enough to feel unscripted, to feel real, a laugh bubbling on the edge of his lips.

Allison was tired of lies.

She rose from the park bench and let her feet lead her toward Alice's show. She got in free since she was a worker. Would the little angel recognize her from the night before? Would she halt her show, mid song, to lunge at her from the stage? Would half of her face melt away into some ugly, awful abomination? That would certainly be something.

When she got to the building, Allison squeezed into the back, behind rows and crowds of people waiting for Alice's song. Allison still felt a bit numb to it all. She wasn't sure if it was only a few minutes until the show started, or half an hour. She hadn't even realized the show had started at all, until she caught herself mumbling the lyrics under her breath. That perfect little angel sang on stage, dancing back and forth, grabbing the microphone and laughing along as children clamored and cheered, loudly singing along with her. Sometimes, she brought a little girl or boy on stage with her, let them try their best to sing along or dance with her. The crowd would eat it up, shouting praises and exclamations of "how lifelike she seemed!"

Just as quickly as she arrived, Allison left the room. Staying in there with her was making her feel sick. Or maybe she was just disappointed nobody else saw the monster she had. Maybe she was disappointed that Alice hadn't leaped off the stage toward her in a murderous rage.

A drop of rain fell on her nose, making Allison's brow furrow for a moment before looking up. Clouds dotted the sky, sprinkling the ground and her hair, washing the ink she hadn't quite washed out yet away. It was cold and crisp, and other attendees rushed out of the quickly gathering downpour. Across the way, underneath an awning, Bendy looked down at the quickly growing puddles with a grin, but of course, he didn't leave the shelter of the cover. Ink and water didn't tend to mix well.

He looked up, catching Allison's apt stares, and waved.

She gritted her teeth, quickly walked passed him. He watched her, and as if to spite him, she took a short leap into one of the bigger puddles. His eyes followed her enviously, smile shaking for a moment, but she didn't linger. Her heart was beating too loudly now. At least he couldn't follow her in this rain.

Somehow, that made her feel better. And the rain poured harder. Cardboard cutouts were whisked away but shouting workers, trying to salvage all they could from the unexpected storm. Water pooled into drainage pipes, sinking down into the tunnels beneath the park, where they would fill up the side walls and stew about until they were eventually pumped out again. Most customers went home if it started to rain. After all, the main attractions couldn't come out to play.

Did anyone go missing on rainy days? Were people reported missing if the toons were contained in their buildings and studios? Could something so carefully built up be so easily dismantled by something as simple as rain?

Allison knew what she had to do. She knew what her plan was as the rain soaked into her skin, wet her down to her core and washed away her feelings of helplessness. She didn't know if she could find Tom anymore. She...she wasn't sure if there would be anything left to find. If Joey was covering up bodies, then the only way to crack this case open, to solve any of these mysterious, lay in the park itself.

So she was going to burn this whole place to the ground. And she knew where to start.

Allison pushed through the rain and ran to a phone booth. She dug into her wet pockets, digging out a few quarters to slip inside before dialing a number written hastily down on a water-stained piece of paper. The phone rang once, twice, before it clicked and a man's voice answered. "Hello?"

"Henry? My name is Allison Pendle. We need to talk."

* * *

Linda carefully set down a mug of tea in front of Allison. "My goodness, I still can't believe you walked half a block to get here," she mused. "You're soaked to the bone...but your clothes should be finished drying soon! I'm glad you're my size!" Linda said happily. Her voice was happy, in a low, grainy kind of way that reminded Allison of a violin.

Allison took the cup and smiled, the warmth of the tiny thing already making her icy hands feel better. "Thank you, you really didn't have to do that."

"It's no trouble! I'm just glad you could make it out here! Henry said it was important," Linda said, and took a seat beside Henry on the couch across from Allison.

The house was cute. She liked it. Framed pictures of the couple lined the walls in circle and square frames. The floral print couch the two sat on sagged a little, but in the way that made it feel used, appreciated. The coffee table was a lighter brown wood, and the few water rings made Allison smile. They didn't have a TV, which surprised Allison a little. She expected a former animator to have a TV to at least watch cartoons, but there was no such thing here, just shelves of books and a drawing desk in the corner gathering dust.

While Linda was a buzz of movement, moving coffee cups or straightening pillows, Henry was a wall, his hands resting at his sides. The only thing that moved were his eyes, which darted about the room without landing on her for more than a few moments. Linda was quick to fill the silence.

"I still can't believe it, getting to meet the voice behind Alice Angel. Henry doesn't like the little cartoons, but I catch a glimpse of them now at then and I just think they're adorable. And you do all the singing? You've got quite a voice!" she gushed. "Did you always want to be a voice actress?"

"An actress in general, actually," Allison said. "I, uh, started working at the studio in finances though. I shifted over to voice acting when a position opened up."

"Oh yeah I heard about that, the other actress went missing. Susie Campbell, right? I remember that being on the news for a while," Linda said. A buzz was heard from the other room, and Linda stood. "Oh! I'll go get your clothes!"

"Thank you," Allison said, watching the busy woman leave. She shifted awkwardly as the silence between her and Henry grew. She wasn't really sure what she was expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. It's not like he could blame her, though. They hadn't ever met before. Sure, they'd worked at the same studio, but at completely different points in time. He just...wasn't really what Allison was expecting. When she learned that the man who created the character of Bendy existed and quite the studio, she kind of imagined a man similar to Joey. Someone with big ideals and expectations, who left because Joey was stealing all of his credit. And, maybe that was the reason. But this man before her was nothing like Joey. Whereas Joey was all smiles and suits, Henry's face was somber. Quiet. Deep set wrinkles and dirty hands from working. His shirt, while clean, was wrinkled, and the collar was popped out on one side. He had a bit of facial hair too, his 5 o'clock shadow a start contrast from Joey's carefully trimmed features. It almost made Allison feel like she'd come to the wrong house. Maybe this was all a mistake after all.

She swallowed, realizing her throat was dry, and took a drink from her cup. It was good. The tea. She said so, and Henry nodded.

He sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. He glanced toward the laundry room, where Linda has disappeared to.

"You said something's wrong with Bendyland. What do you mean?" he asked.

"I guess I...well..." she ran a hand through her hair. Still wet, so it surprised her. "Have you...have you been to the park?"

"No," he said.

"But you've, you've seen them. The toons?"

"No."

"...really? You created Bendy, didn't you?"

Henry looked toward his drawing table. Scattered notes, papers, and empty inkwells stared back at him. "Yeah. I did. Doesn't mean it feels right to see him come to life. He was just...he was just a doodle. And now he's living and breathing. How's that supposed to make me feel? I mean, you get it, right? You voice Alice Angel for years, then suddenly she's staring back at you?"

That was true. It was crazy. Surreal. Something out of a fantasy novel. She didn't blame Henry for being hesitant.

"Plus, Joey and I don't really talk anymore. I don't want to run into him by accident. But back to the park. What's wrong with it, and why do you think I can help?"

"Something's wrong. With the park, with the toons, with Joey, everything."

And so she told him. Everything. Everything she'd seen up until this point. She hadn't intended to. She'd just intended to tell him the basics. She didn't want her stories to sound unbelievable, but Henry's expressionless face, free of judgement, urged her to continue every time she hesitated. Linda drifted in and out of the room, a quiet look from Henry silencing Allison's story until she left again. She pretended she understood that.

"And now, my best friend Tom is missing. Toons are dying, children and families are disappearing, and at night, the toons transform into monsters." Allison put her hand to her forehead and rubbed her temples. "I know it sounds ridiculous. I know. I wouldn't believe me either. But I promise, it's the truth, and I don't know what to do. I thought about going to the police, but if Joey's been covering up missing people in the park, the police have to already be involved. With as much money as the park makes, I wouldn't doubt they've been paid off. And I know it sounds like one big conspiracy, but I...I'm _scared." _

"So why come to me?" Henry asked quietly. She still couldn't read his face. It was driving her mad that she hadn't squeezed out even a single reaction from him. Not so much as a raised eyebrow. She wanted something to indicate that he at least believed her. Something.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said. "You left the studio before anyone else. You got out while the rest of us were blinded by Joey's promises of dreams and fame. Why? What did you see that none of us did?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, letting it out through his mouth in a half-broken sigh. "Just a man I once called a friend slipping into madness. Back then, the studio was failing. Joey had big ideas, but not enough money to back it up. I was often the one he confided it, but back then, I stopped agreeing with him. Things were changing. It wasn't just the two of us talking about our dreams of making it big. It was the boss talking to just another one of his lackey's. I guess I thought I was more than that to him, but he was willing to sacrifice anything for his dreams. I guess I just lost sight of the dream. So I left. Turned in my resignation." Henry opened his eyes. There was something sad behind them. "I'll never forget Joey's face when I handed him those papers. I watched the last remains of my friend die in his eyes. I watched his face grow cold as his last friend abandoned him."

"So...you never even saw the ink machine?" Allison asked.

"I don't even know what that is," Henry admitted. "I'm sorry, Allison. I...I'd like to believe you. Maybe deep down I do. I believe that Joey would be willing to anything to reach his dreams. And now that he's got them, I believe that he'd do anything to keep ahold of them. Even...even cover things up. Even work with things that may not be morally right."

"Then you have to help me!" Allison said. "Listen to me Henry, we need to shut this park down, this whole thing, we have to shut it down. We have to. Those toons aren't natural, and I think if we show people the monsters that really lurk after dark, Joey Drew Studios will be gone. For good. We could-"

"No."

Allison trailed off, and silence filled the room. Her face fell.

"I'm sorry, Allison. If I believe you, if I believe that something bigger is going on here, then I have to believe that there are monsters in that park. I have to believe that Joey is one of them. I can't do that. I can't put myself in that kind of situation. Not right now."

She opened her mouth again, but the sharp wail of a baby slammed it shut. Henry stood. He looked down at her pityingly.

He did believe her. She could see it in his eyes. That's what made it all the harder for him to say no. He started to leave the room. "Linda will get you your dry clothes."

"You started this too," Allison said sharply, and Henry paused in the doorway. Allison rose from the couch, her hands clenching into fists. "You...you created those things. You should feel just as responsible for this. You should help me make things right."

"...goodbye, Allison," Henry said, and walked out of the room, toward the sound of a baby wailing.

Linda walked into the room with a hum, holding out Allison's nicely folded and warm clothes for her. "Here you are! Please be careful out there in the rain, alright?"

Allison looked up at her, this woman, with her warm features and smiling face, and felt bad for what she'd said to Henry. If she were in his shoes, if she had found a way to get away with Tom, or anyone, to forget about the studio and Joey and everything to form a life of her own, she wouldn't want to look back either.

But Allison didn't have that option. So she thanked Linda for her kindness, changed into her dry clothes, and started to leave. Henry and Linda were in the kitchen as she walked out, each trying to sooth the wailing child.

"Try singing to her," Allison said softly.

Henry turned toward her over his shoulder, but no further.

She offered a small smile. An apology. "Works for me."

She closed the door gently behind her, walking out to her car as thunder rumbled overhead. The storm was only just beginning.

* * *

Henry watched her go, rocking the small baby in his arms, who was only just now starting to calm down. Linda placed her hands on his shoulders. "Is everything alright, Henry?" she asked.

He turned to her and smiled, using his one free hand to cup her cheek. She smiled and leaned into it, loving the feeling of his hands, calloused from gripping too many pens and pencils. "Yeah. She just had a few questions about Joey."

"And the park?"

He nodded. "She wanted me to go with her. Check it out a little."

"But you said no." She frowned. "Henry...what's wrong? Why do you look so troubled?"

"Just more demons I'd rather forget," he said. He looked down at the baby in his arms and smiled. "I'd rather focus on the angels in front of me."

Linda sighed, but smiled. "You're a man of many demons, Henry. Sooner or later, you'll have to face them. You know that, right?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Maybe tomorrow."

She laughed, bringing a smile to his face. He didn't need to face the past. He didn't need to go back to that studio, especially if what Allison said was true. He didn't need to see Bendy and the others, or face Joey. He didn't need to set things right. He hadn't wronged them in the first place. How hard had he pushed Joey? How hard had he pushed and pushed, trying to help him see the truth of things? Were they expecting him to go back to that place, push harder? No. He was tired. He had a family now. He wasn't going back. But as he set his daughter back down in her crib, watched her tiny fingers curl around his own while Linda hummed in the other room, he felt his chest tighten.

He was her father. Half of her creator. She needed him, for now, anyway. He was going to be there to help her grow up, raise her, watch her become whoever she wanted to be.

Bendy. Boris. They were different. They were.

Just because he drew them doesn't mean he was responsible for them. They were just thoughts. Ideas. Whatever Joey had cooked up in his studio was a separate mess entirely, and Henry didn't need to feel guilty. If it was up to him, he'd go back in time and erase the whole thing.

He wished it were that easy to erase the past, to erase ink. But it wasn't, and no matter what Henry told himself, he knew that without him, there would be no Bendy. How big or little responsibility was placed on him as a result was yet to be seen, but he did feel at least partially responsible.

"Joey...just what have you done this time?" Henry whispered.

Maybe...maybe he didn't have to go to the park after all. Maybe he just needed to phone an old friend.

* * *

**I LIVE! Hehe, sorry, I took a vacation to Florida so I didn't get much time to write. But while I was there, we got our first BATDR trailer! Holy heck Batman! Honestly, I am so excited for this new game I can barely stand it. Gotta contain all of my excitement and theories for now though! Thanks for reading this chapter of Welcome to Bendyland, and look forward to the next chapter, coming out soon!**


	8. Chapter 8: The Blueprints, the Walk

**Welcome to Bendyland Chapter 8: The Blueprints, the Walkways, and the Light in the Darkness**

* * *

The rain all but disappeared by the next morning, leaving only a few gray, puffy clouds littering the sky. Floods of people crowded back into the park, umbrellas shoved into backpacks and purses just in case the clouds tried to ruin family plans again. It was Saturday, which meant the park would be full of families and weekenders who had traveled down from nearby towns to spend some time in the park where dreams come true.

It also meant that Joey would be showcasing new attractions and rides to potential investors. He would be preoccupied for most of the morning. Shows were booked from the end of the parade to near closing time, so the toons would be occupied as well.

Needless to say, the only one who didn't seem to have something to do was Allison herself. Sammy had taken a rare vacation day, so she was left to her own devices. She was grateful for more reasons than one. The last thing she wanted was to see Sammy. He was just another monster in this game, one she definitely didn't feel like she could trust. It hurt, knowing that Sammy was the Follower. She'd always trusted Sammy, even with his narcissistic personality. She liked being around him, listening to him talk, and voicing her own concerns. But no. He was another piece in this park, and she couldn't risk being around him more than she had to.

She recorded a few songs on her own, mostly just to keep as proof that she'd been working and not just wondering the park. Which is what she was doing now, as a matter of fact. She lingered on the outskirts of a new roller coaster being built, the Bendy-Whirl. A spinning ride where the carts that seated four would turn and spin up and down hills at fairly high speeds. It was an ambitious project, and had already received quite a bit of funding, so it was no surprise to Allison that this is where she found Bertrum, leaning over a table with blueprints sprawled out on his work-desk. It was a movable desk, not that Bertrum ever did any of the heavy lifting himself. It moved around on wheels and followed him from job to job, or sat stationed outside of his main office in the studio. Joey had to pay a pretty penny to get Bertrum to agree to work with the park full-time. The man was an architectural artist, and he could have easily worked for amusement parks the world over.

But, just like many of the workers here, Bertrum was swept in by Joey Drew's dreams and grand ideas. They didn't use to get along at all, the two of them. Bertrum would scoff at Joey's big ideas, remark how impossible they were in reality, and then they would argue and fight and it would end with Bertrum demanding money for the dreams Joey cooked up or he'd leave and Joey's never see him again.

Allison often wondered what would have happened if Joey hadn't succeeded in getting that last loan for the ink machine, from a partnership with Gent, of all things. They'd worked closely with the studio before, but Allison never saw much of them. Just a tight-suited man or woman now and then, smiling and shaking hands with Joey, but that was it. If that last loan hadn't gone through, if the ink machine hadn't worked to bring those little cartoons to life, what would have happened? Would the old studio be abandoned, left behind, nothing else roaming its empty halls but a straw paper or ink puddle?

She sighed. She'd probably be curled up at home with another job, happy and content, grabbing lunches with Tom, maybe even going on a date or two, and the horrors of this place would be a long forgotten and non-existent memory.

But that wasn't her reality. Bertrum was still here, closer to Joey than ever, the two of them often meeting in quiet corners to discuss new ride ideas and map out possible attractions for the following tourist season.

He was exactly who she needed to talk to for the first step of her plan.

Allison slid underneath the cautionary tape and leaned up against the fence diving the construction area from the rest of the park. "Hello? Mister Bertrum Piedmont?"

"Whatever is it now, can't you see I'm busy?" the man scowled under his breath, not even looking up. "If you want to know how to get to another area of the park, or when the showtimes are, please go bother someone else doing something less important than me!" he grumbled.

"No, I'm not- ugh...my name is Allison Pendle. I work here, I'm the voice for Alice Angel?"

"And your point is?" he retorted back. "Whatever you need, I doubt it concerns me, Miss Alice."

Allison bit her tongue, forcing back a snide remark. But no, she could keep her tongue in check, she was prepared for this. She was aware of Bertrum's infamous attitude, especially while he was working.

And she also knew Bertrum's one weakness.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," she said. "I just, well, I'm a huge fan of your work."

He stiffened, tilting his head ever so slightly away from his papers.

_Gotcha._

"I know it sounds silly, but I just love these rides so much, and more than that, each one is so unique! I mean, I've been to all kinds of amusement parks, but the rides here really are one-of-a-kind! I guess I just really wanted to talk to the mind behind them, but I understand if you're busy, I'm so terribly sorry for bothering you Mister Piedmont." She turned away from his work.

"W-Well, as it were, I was just about to go on break for a moment. I suppose I could indulge a few questions from a fan."

Allison resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead plastering on her widest smile.

Play to your strengths, Allison. Your cute smile. Your girlish giggle. You're nothing if not a talented actress.

She spun back around, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. "Really? Oh you promise it's not too much of a bother? I'd be more than happy to buy you lunch!"

Bertrum smiled at her. She could already see the red in his cheeks, the way his eyes glanced her up and down slightly. He wasn't used to getting this much attention, certainly not from a woman. His hands found his pockets, and she wondered how his fat fingers could even hold his pen. She tried not to be too repulsed as he opened the gate to the fence and walked over to her, smelling of sweat and sawdust. His thinning hair was combed back over his head, and his little mustache looked more than a little greasy. He leaned in and smiled. "Oh no no no, a sweet little lady like yourself can't possibly pay for lunch, but I'd be more than happy to take you out to eat."

He probably thought he was being charming, but Allison felt her heart squirm in her chest, like worms were wiggling beneath her skin. She hated this feeling. She'd worked damn hard up until now to get into this industry, to be treated as a professional based on her talents and not just her looks. It was extra hard as an actress, where looks seemed to be everything. And every time she made herself up in the mirror in the mornings, she had to tell herself it was for her own benefit, and not for the favor of men whose eyes lingered in all the wrong places. But sometimes, it was hard. It was. She second-guessed herself when she wore her favorite skirt. Did it show too much skin? Did her blouse show too much cleavage? Was it wrong if she wanted it to, was it wrong if she didn't? If she knew that it might help her get more attention?

Tom. Oh Tom. That was another reason she liked him so much. They'd met in the pouring rain, with makeup running down her face as she held a raggedy newspaper over her head, trying to hail a cab home. She'd had a long day. Joey had made a snide comment about her voice, and she'd gone to the bathroom to cry in peace, debating with herself on whether this whole acting thing was even worth it even more. The rain was welcome. It covered up her red cheeks.

Tom had come up beside her with an umbrella, asking her if she were alright, if she needed to borrow his umbrella. She said no, she wasn't sure why, maybe because she was tired of men doing everything for her all day long. It was rude, and she didn't like being rude, but sometimes it just felt nice to not have to smile and be a perfect little angel all the time.

So he'd shrugged, wished her a good night, and headed out into the rain with his umbrella.

It was the first time in a while Allison felt like she had been listened to and not looked down on for her decision, silly as it was.

The next time she saw him, working under the walkways of the park, he probably hadn't recognized her, but she recognized him and struck up a conversation. He did remember her. She expected some sort of comment about her in the rain, about her being rude. But he didn't. He just asked if she was alright. Wanted to make sure she hadn't caught a cold in that storm. When she said no, they moved on with their conversation. He didn't pry. Didn't make a comment about how she shouldn't have been out by herself. He instead asked her if she liked the rain.

She did. She said as much. And he had smiled. He said he liked it too, because it washed the ink from his clothes.

It was...nice.

Allison clenched her hands into fists, but quickly hid them behind her back so Bertrum wouldn't see.

This was for Tom. And as sick as it made her feel, she was willing to use whatever assets she had to get more information. Even if it meant kissing ass and batting her eyelashes. Even if it meant she didn't like her reflection tonight when she washed the makeup off her face. It was for Tom, and Allison promised herself that if she could find him, if he was still alive and she could get him out of here, they'd run away together to a place where all of this would be nothing but a bad dream.

* * *

Henry drummed his fingers on his work desk. Did he really want to get an old friend wrapped up in all of this? Not that he could really call the two of them friends. Old coworkers was more accurate. He'd ask why Henry called. It wasn't like Henry to dig up the past, and even if this was important, he just wasn't sure if he wanted to get him involved. It didn't feel right somehow, considering how much they'd worked with each other. He was another one there, in the beginning, when Joey started all of this. If Henry was the artist and Joey was the dreaming businessman, then Norman Polk was the brains behind their little studio. No one knew how to operate the film reels and lighting like he did, and helped their creations come to life on the screen.

One call wouldn't hurt. Just one call, just one to check in and see if everything was alright, if things were really as bad as Allison made them out to be.

He wasn't sure what he'd do once he had his answer either way, but just one call couldn't hurt.

He dialed the numbers on the landline, heard the phone ring and trill a few moments before it clicked and Norman's rough, gravely voice answered.

"Y'ello?"

"Norman?"

"Wha...well I'll be darned. Henry? Henry Stein?"

Henry smiled. "Hey Norman."

"Lord Almighty, it's sure been a while since I've heard your voice. What can I do you for, Henry? It ain't like you to call out of the blue like this."

Henry ran a hand through his hair. "Have you...have you noticed anything odd going on in the studio lately, Norman?"

"Odd? Whatcha mean?"

"Well I...I had this woman come by my house today. Miss Allison Pendle."

"Oh yeah, she's the voice for that there Alice Angel. Can't say I've talked to her much myself, but I know of her. _Everybody_ knows of _her._" There were rustling noises on the other end of the line, like Norman was pulling a chair out and taking a seat.

"She told me there were some odd things going on at the studio. Now listen, I don't want her to get in trouble. And I know...well, you said it yourself once, Norman. Projectionists see a lot. Sometimes more than they should. I guess I was just wondering if I should be worried about what's going on down there at the park."

There was a lot of silence on the other end of the line. Silence and static that made Henry swallow a lump in his throat.

"Norman?"

He sighed. Henry heard the creak of weight on wood, and rustling. "How's your wife doing, Henry?" Norman said, his voice low.

"I...s-she's good. Just had our baby girl."

"And you wouldn't do anything to risk the life you have now, right?" Norman asked. Henry had to press his ear to the phone in order to hear him now.

"Of course not. They're my everything."

"'Course they are. And that's good. You're a good guy, Henry, always had a lot going for you. You're smarter than the rest of us. You got out while you still could. A part of your gut said that you should get out, stay away, and you listened to it."

"What are you getting at, Norman?"

"Listen to your gut, Henry," Norman said, and Henry could hear the waver in his voice. "Listen to your gut, and stay out there in the light. Don't seek out the darkness. You'll find too much of it here in this studio. And please, for my sake too, don't call me again."

There was a loud click, and then Norman was gone, leaving Henry with a ragged, twisted, ugly feeling in his gut.

Something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Allison swept the letters and loose papers from her kitchen table, paying them no mind as they scattered to the floor at her feet. Cheese darted out of the way, running to the safety of Allison's bed, still made from the night before. It called to her, urging her to take just a few moments to rest her eyes, but she kept her back to her bedroom, focusing instead on all of the information she'd managed to gather.

Blueprints from Bertrum. They weren't easy to get, but getting the man a little drunk was easy, and convincing him to let her borrow his blueprints to admire his "work" was even easier. She'd slipped away from him after that, left him trying to wipe the drool off of his face in the restaurant. She made quick work of sketching out rough copies of the plans, just the information that she needed. She knew she couldn't borrow these blueprints for long, so getting the information she needed was necessary.

Walkway and structural maps from Wally. Good old Wally Franks. He was more than willing to help her, more than willing to "stick it to the man" Joey Drew. On top of that, she'd given him a very reasonable excuse. She was always getting lost down in the walkways. Not true, she knew how to get to exactly where she needed to go and nothing more. These maps indicated just how large of an underground expanse this was, and while some rooms weren't labeled, she knew this would be helpful. She could fill in the empty spaces, travel unnoticed from Joey Drew, and maybe, just maybe, find that ink machine. Maybe even find Tom along with it. She couldn't describe it, but she just had this nagging feeling that the two would be connected. Maybe it was the way Tom was always going on about the machine being his creation, even a creation that he regretted. She wasn't sure. But it was a start.

Her plan was coming together, bit by bit. There was only one thing she needed, one thing to really set everything into motion. She needed Joey's contracts with Gent. Gent was their biggest supporter and funder. If Allison could sabotage the park while Gent were visiting for some sort of investment, Joey would never be able to recover. And that's what she needed. She couldn't just loosen a few bolts on rides or linger around underground walkways. No. Any minor damage she did, or anything she tried to expose, Joey would find a way to cover up. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, Joey was brilliant. She needed to hit him where it hurt, and there was no better place the pockets he so eagerly lined.

Expose the park to the public. Find Tom. Cut off Gent's ever-steady flow of money. And this whole place would come crumbling down.

Her plan might just work, even without Henry's help.

Henry. She knew he had to believe her. He had to. And she wanted his help, but...she still couldn't be mad. She still couldn't blame him. And if he didn't want to help her, then that was his choice. She was going to respect that. She just wished she didn't have to go in this alone. Not that she didn't think she could do it by herself, but some company would be appreciated. Someone she could trust.

She couldn't trust Sammy, he was too unpredictable. With the odd way he spoke of Bendy, Allison had a feeling he'd be all too opposed to doing anything that might hurt his inky incarnation. Bertrum was definitely not an option, he was too close to Joey and this park made him too much money. She thought about confessing to Wally, he'd certainly seen a lot over the years, but she didn't want to get any of Tom's old crew wrapped up in this. It felt wrong.

Allison sat down at the table, putting her head in her hands. Her head was pounding. Her heart was pounding. The whole room was spinning and she had to dig her fingers into her hair to keep her from falling over.

Dammit, she was _scared. _What she was planning to do was crazy. She didn't want to do it alone. She didn't want to do it at all, she just wanted to run away from here. Her eyes glanced over at Tom's recording. She wanted to hear his voice again, but it was all wrong, too scared and too desperate to feel like it was really him. She missed his gruff curses and flushed face anytime she gave him a certain grin. She could always see him trying to keep his composure around her. It was cute. Made her feel worth something.

"Tom...how am I going to do this without you?" she whispered.

A sharp knock on her door jolted her upright.

Had she been found out?

Was Joey here, ready to drag her back to the park, never to leave?

Maybe he'd gotten the police involved, he figured out her meddling and her plans and was ready to arrest her on some false charges...

Allison grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter and held it behind her back. Ready. Waiting. She opened the door just a crack.

"Miss Allison Pendle?"

Her brow furrowed a bit. "Who..who are you?"

The man before her caught her off guard. He was tall, she had to tilt her head up a bit to meet his gaze, and fidgeted quite a bit, his hands never holding still. Thick-framed, circular glasses outlined owlish eyes and freckles. His hair was a mess, looking like he just ran through a wind tunnel. He was a mousy sort of man, if mice were tall and lanky.

"My name is Norman Polk. And I think, well, I'm thinkin' we should talk. I think we might be after the same thing."

Was this a trick? If it was, Joey hadn't exactly sent the most intimidating man.

"I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person," she started, beginning to close the door when his fingers lurched out and grabbed the edge. His fingertips were black. Stained with ink.

"W-wait! Please! I talked to Henry!"

Allison paused, lingering and letting the door stay open just a crack.

"He told me you came and asked questions. He wanted to know if what you said was true. I knew it was, but I couldn't get Henry involved, not now that he's got a family and all. But I also just couldn't sit by, knowing there was someone else out there, who seen the same things as me, who's trying to change things!" he said quickly. "I know you ain't got no reason to trust me, Allison. But I wanna help, even if it's only a little."

She opened the door a bit more, facing him again, still keeping that knife hidden behind her back. "...why?"

"I sees things, Miss Allison," he said. His voice was low, and it shook in a way Allison was familiar with. The voice of someone struggling to keep themselves from running away. "I'm the projectionist, see. I've been here since the beginning. I was an old friend of Henry's. I never cared much for Mister Joey Drew. But after them things I've seen...I've wanted to quit this studio for a long, long time. But I can't. Not knowin' what I do. So if you're plannin' to do something about this place, this I wanna help."

Allison's thumb trailed up and down the hilt of the knife behind her.

Could she trust him?

Maybe not entirely, but...

She opened the door for him and turned to set the knife down on the counter. His eyes widened a bit when he saw the knife, but she shrugged it off and gestured inside.

"Then let's talk, Norman."

* * *

**Figuring out who would help Allison along the way has been really fun. I've been doing a lot of digging into audio files and tapes, really asking myself, what would these people be like if the park was successful? Who would support Joey, and who would turn against him?**

**Who would side with Angels, and who would side with Demons?**

**I'm taking a few creative liberties with Norman, since we really don't know too much about him aside from what we can learn from the 2 audio tapes he's in. I hope you like my take on the "creepy projectionist, always looking for trouble."**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks again for reading! Look forward to going back to the park at night in the next chapter, sorry it's been a while, but I've wanted to set up a lot of stuff before I dove back into the action. Have a good day/night!**


	9. Chapter 9: Work Hard, Work Happy

**Welcome to Bendyland! Chapter 9: Work Hard, Work Happy!**

Norman took a seat at Allison's table, raising an eyebrow at the scattered remains of blueprints and walkway maps. She'd been busy, that much he could see. Pencils and pens were laying on the table or had rolled to the floor, dishes had been piled a bit haphazardly in the sink, but these were all new messes. The apartment itself was relatively clean. Whatever Allison had been planning had been recent, but that didn't mean she wasn't able to completely demolish her room and make a mess of things. It looked like a whirlwind had whipped around the room, and through the open door in the back, he could see a bedroom that hadn't been slept in for days.

She took a seat across from him, bringing his attention away from his surroundings and back to her tired face. "So," she said, and then looked at him. He waited for more, but an awkward silence just stretched out between them instead.

"S-So?"

"So, why come here? How do I know I can trust you? Just start talking," Allison said.

Norman swallowed. Geez, she was scary.

"Henry said you talked to him bout stuff in the park, that you were worried bad things were happenin'. I knew that if you were going to him, you had to know somethin'. Now, I don't know what all you know, but I figure you have to at least have some clue about the ink machine and people goin' missing," he rambled. "A-and judging by the knife you held to me when I first came to your door, I'm guessing you know about what happens after dark too."

"You've seen them? After dark?" she asked.

He grinned shakily, hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace. "W-what can I say? It's in the nature of us projectionists to seek out the dark places. We all know about Bendy. But Alice? That was a surprise I wasn't expecting. Scared me half to death the first time I saw her, I spent the night huddled down in those tunnels thinkin' I was gonna die for sure."

"Why don't the Boris's ever change?" she asked.

"Huh?"

Allison shook her head slightly. "Sorry, just...thinking out loud. I know that there are more than one Boris's, but they never seem to change at night, and I was wondering why."

"I don't know nothing about the technicality, or how it all works, miss. I just know it does. Maybe it's 'cause the Boris's are always dying? They don't stick around in that park long enough to get corrupted," he said.

"So Alice, and Bendy, they've never had to be replaced that you know of?" she pried.

Norman shook his head. "Not that I know of. Before you start askin' too many questions, Miss Allison, I should clarify that I really don't know too much. Maybe just a bit more than you, but that's because I've been here a long, long time. And on top 'a that, Joey hardly ever seems to notice I'm there." He scratched his head. "First it kinda...well, it kinda stung a bit. He treats me like he would the projection itself. Just kinda...there. There to order around and do what he pleases. But I'm the only one who knows how to use the old projectors, the original ones. I custom built them myself, to run a certain way that's signature to our style. The Joey Drew style. We did that in the beginning to make sure that if anyone managed to steal one of the reels, it couldn't be played on anything but our machines. But now, nobody else knows how to do it, and Joey won't hire anyone for me to teach. So I think that's why Joey keeps me around."

Allison ran a hand through her hair. "And because you've been so close to Joey, you've seen how dark this park really is. And now, you think I'm on some mission to tear it all down to the ground, like some rebellion, and you want to help?"

Norman shifted in his seat. "Well...yeah. I mean...kinda. I don't wanna work here anymore miss. But I'm scared half to death just thinking about what Joey would do to me if he knew I was aiming to leave. If he can make such awful creatures...I mean, shucks, what if he turns me into one of those things? Some sort of machine or projectionist, where all I do is play footage, over and over? I know that sounds paranoid, but, well, after the things I've seen, I think I've a right to feel a little paranoid. Why are you doin' this?"

Allison was quiet. Norman felt her eyes looking him over, lingering and thinking. Wondering if she could trust him, probably. He didn't doubt her for being suspicious. This all sounded awfully crazy to him too, but he hoped that she'd believe him. If she went to Joey, told him everything that he knew, what he was willing to do, then he'd be dead for sure.

She stood up, startling him a bit, but she just walked over to an audio tape on the counter and pushed play. It was a voice he didn't really recognize. But he recognized that tone. The way the voice rose and fell and shook. Fear.

"That was my friend, Tom," Allison explained, once the tape was finished. "He figured out something bad was happening. Something I still don't know. But it was enough to get him in trouble, and now he's missing. He's gone. I haven't heard a word of him, but of course, Joey says he just quit. I need to find my friend. If there's nothing to find, then I guess I just want to burn this whole park down. So that nobody else ends up like him."

"Lord Almighty..." Norman whispered, putting his head in his hands. "How...how are we gonna do that? Destroy the park, I mean? Or find your friend?"

Allison rolled out the blueprints again. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, something he hadn't seen in her yet. A fire. A resolve. It was a little scary.

"I have a plan."

* * *

"For the first part of our plan, we're going to need my audio tapes."

Allison slipped into the park the next day, a Sunday, hoping most people wouldn't be around. While park workers were especially busy on the weekends, studio workers like herself had the time off for the most part, unless Joey demanded overtime. Today, however, he didn't, and Allison hoped that she could take this opportunity to sneak in and out of the recording studio without being noticed.

She headed toward the studio, it was late afternoon now, the park would be closing in a few hours, but it gave her enough time to get in and out. She thought she saw Alice or Bendy out of the corner of her eye once, singing or entertaining guests, but she wasn't sure and moved on, nearly running into the Boris from earlier. He looked at her and cocked his head, several park guests laughing at Allison's startled, and a bit fearful, expression at coming so close to him.

"Sorry," she muttered under her breath, hurrying along as the Boris stared after her before continuing to entertain the crowd.

He barely even seemed to recognize her from that other night. Was it a different Boris by now? In the nights since then, had another Boris died and been replaced?

She shook her head. It didn't matter anyway, so there was no point in letting her thoughts wander. She just needed to get in and out of the studio without drawing too much attention to herself. Thankfully, it wasn't out of the ordinary for her to be there on the weekends, working on some deadline. If regular workers saw her, they wouldn't even bat an eye. However, Allison didn't see any other workers. The studio workers had already left for the day.

Once inside the studio, Allison wasted no time briskly walking through the halls. She'd decided to ditch the heels today, opting for flats that made far less noise when she was hurrying along. She still heard the soft thud of her feet on the ground. Everything else though was silent. There no muffled conversations or the click of keys on typewriters from around the halls. No creaking wood or fluttering of papers. Not even the band was playing anymore, everyone had gone home, and the muffled vibrations through the soundproof room were nowhere to be heard.

The door to the music room opened with a creak, and Allison flicked on the lights hanging from overhead. They were already turned off, but still warm after a hard day's work, buzzing slightly as she moved toward Sammy's office in the back. His "sanctuary," he always called it.

Just in and out Allison, she told herself. Just in to grab your tapes, then out. That's all she needed.

Standing outside of Sammy's office, she realized it had been quite a while since she'd been inside. She'd been in before, even back when Sammy's office was nothing but a walled off room frequently flooded with ink, back when Sammy himself would retreat to the room to scowl and lament about Joey Drew and the immense pressure placed upon him. Other than maybe a handful of times in the beginning, she never went in. Sammy didn't want anyone in. It was his private room, a place just for him. Sure, he had a "meeting office," where he met with new potential singers, voice actors, or band members, but it was for formalities only. His office, his sanctuary, she honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever seen in its entirety. But she knew that's where she had to look.

She tried to push the door open. The knob turned, it wasn't locked, but she only managed to push it open an inch before it met with resistance. She huffed and pushed again, feeling something sliding out against the door with a groan. One final push, and the door swung open with a tumble of boxes, scattering sheet music and old records.

Great. So much for getting in and out undetected. Sammy would know someone had been in his office for sure now. How the heck had he managed to get in with all of this stuff? Boxes and filing cabinets thrown against one another, a desk piled high with music, and a chair that was covered in fiddles and drums. It looked like he hadn't even been in this office in weeks. This wasn't quite how Allison remembered it being, but she can't say she'd paid much attention. She carefully stepped around the boxes, bending down to dig through files, finding nothing. Just more sheet music, the occasional string from a forgotten cello, a recording tape or two hidden under the debris.

Part of the room rounded a corner that she couldn't see, but she headed that way, hoping the small enclave would lead to the tapes. She wasn't sure where else they would be, maybe in the observation room up top, but she could always check that on the way out if she needed to. She made her way around the corner, and felt her heart leap to her chest.

It was something out of a horror movie. There were inky symbols drawn on the floor, candles lit and flickering against the walls as books and drawings lined the wooden floorboards. A large circular drawing was on the floor, a sloppy summoning symbol of some kind, and on the back wall, back behind a singular chair, was large words drawn in ink.

**SING A HAPPY SONG**  
**WHISTLE A MERRY TUNE**  
**MY LORD HAS NOW ARRIVED**  
**I'LL BE WITH HIM VERY SOON**

If it wasn't evident before, it was glaringly obvious now that Sammy had absolutely lost his mind. She'd never seen someone write on the walls like this, using ink in such a blatant, scrawling way. It was crude and primal, more akin to a cave drawing that art. It was a motto, a mantra, something to hang above his head while he worked in silence.

She tore her eyes away from the disturbing sight to the shelf pressed up against the corner, lined with cases. The tapes. At least she wouldn't leave this place empty-handed.

Allison sifted through the cases, finding one marked with her name. She thought about taking the whole case, but she didn't want Sammy to notice that she'd taken anything. She settled on an old favorite of hers that Sammy hadn't revisited in years, hoping it would grant her some cover. Lonely Angel. Satisfied, she put the tape back and turned to leave the room. Her feet couldn't carry her fast enough as she left that terrifying sanctuary behind her, nearly tripping over Sammy's sheet music now as she bolted for the door, threw it open, and closed it behind her. Her heart was pounding wildly. She couldn't wait to leave.

Suddenly, the lights all turned off with a pop, drowning her and the room in darkness. She yelped, covering her mouth with her hand a moment later. Spotlights lit up the band chairs, now occupied by smiling Bendy cutouts. Another spotlight lit up over the observation room, where Sammy was smiling down at his audience of inky demons.

"And now, a riveting, private performance for our dear Alice Angel, in the flesh! The true Angel, not a cheap imitation that Joey would have us believe," Sammy said, his voice booming and echoing throughout the room, pronouncing to an empty audience. "Bravo! Bravo, for our dear Alice Angel! Miss Allison Pendle!"

Allison sprinted for the door on the other side of the room, racing passed smiling, painted faces whose eyes seemed to follow her across the room. Her hand reached for the doorknob as instruments blared from the ceiling speakers, Sammy conducting their pre-recorded songs. She gripped the knob, shaking it, but it didn't budge.

These rooms weren't supposed to lock. At least, not from the inside. Sammy had a lock built into the outside so no one could disturb him while the band was playing. But not from the inside. Not to keep the band from leaving. She banged on the door with her fist, then slammed her whole body into the side. She could heard Sammy humming as he came down the steps. Slow. Methodical. Not at all rushing or worried. She slammed into the door again, feeling the cheap wood creak, but nothing more.

"Oh Miss Allison, I think I'll ask for one of my favors now," Sammy said, his voice right behind her. She froze, her shoulders stiffening as she tried to will her body to turn around, to face him and get ready to fight if she needed to. But she couldn't. Her body wasn't listening. She was still facing the door, facing her only means of escape, some part of her begging for the door to open.

"Whatever you want, you can go shove it up your ass," Allison hissed, hoping the ferocity of her words covered up her low, trembling voice.

Sammy chuckled. "Ohhhh, you're going to do what I say. Or I'll tell Joey _everything."_

"Joey already knows everything," Allison lied. It wasn't a total lie. Joey knew more than she would like, but she didn't know exactly how much he knew.

"Oh really? Joey knows you went and visited Henry? The man he hates more than anyone else?"

"How...how do you know that?"

"You really shouldn't make such important phone calls from lines in the park," Sammy said. "Those can be traced, you know. Saved into audio logs. Recorded for later."

Shit.

"What do you want?" Allison said, finally forcing herself to turn around and face the man. His eyes were wild and crazy, pupils so dilated his eyes looked black. Animalistic and inhuman. And that mask, that horrible Bendy cut-out. He was wearing it now, to no surprise, but she had no problems picking out who was behind it now. How was it not so obvious before? Maybe she just hadn't wanted to believe that someone she worked so closely with could have so completely lost his mind.

"I want you to sing for me," Sammy said with a smile. "We're going to summon my lord."

* * *

Norman paced back and forth through the halls. She was late. She wasn't supposed to be late. He was supposed to grab his projector reels and tools from the maintenance rooms, then meet her here, down in these dark tunnels and pathways, right before the park closed. He checked his watch again, half passed closing time. He'd been out in the park at first, watched the workers usher stragglers along. Watched them sweep the park for any stowaways, then quickly clean and have everything ready before dark. It was getting dark now, the sun was setting and Norman had retreated down into the tunnels to avoid getting seen by the workers. Now he worried about something else finding him.

His hands were sweaty, he was finding it harder and harder to grip his recording equipment. It wasn't really the best sort of thing to use to capture live footage. It was meant for animation after all. But when Allison asked if he could adjust it to record live footage at night, he'd blindly agreed, thinking that he could probably make something like that happen. And that's what he'd done, when they both arrived at the park. They were going to go out at night, record some footage of Alice and Bendy after dark, and try to broadcast that on all of the TVs. Then would be the rides, removing just enough screws to make the warnings go off, but not enough for anyone to get hurt. They just wanted to delay the rides, get all of the guests in a position where they would have no choice to watch the screens for entertainment.

Even then, they weren't sure if it would be enough evidence to shut down the park. So there was one final plan, one final thing that would be a foolproof way to keep people away from the park. Allison was supposed to go get her audio tapes. They were going to broadcast them through the park during the day in hopes that Alice Angel would break character. So that people could see her for what she really was.

Well, that was the plan anyway.

Now, Allison was nearly a whole hour late, and it was long passed sundown. Norman was losing his cool. Had this all been a trick? Had she left him here on purpose, a traitor to Joey Drew, to get him caught? Maybe this was all an elaborate joke, and soon all sorts of his coworkers would emerge from the woodworks to laugh and point. He'd probably prefer that now.

There was a loud bang down the far right corridor. Norman yelped and nearly dropped his camera, scrambling backwards away from the dark hallway. He didn't mind dark places. But only if he had a light.

With shaky hands, Norman reached out and flipped on the projector light on his camera, illuminating the tunnel ahead of him a short ways. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to feel a little better. He'd be able to tell if something was coming toward him now.

There was another bang, this time to the left. Norman spun around, his light catching something darting passed the hall. His heart leaped to his throat, pounding away, adrenaline urging him to run, run Norman, get out of here, there's danger about, but his shaking legs couldn't do it.

Another bang. Closer this time.

Way too close.

He spun around, screaming as his light illuminating a familiar face.

Boris couldn't scream, but he covered his eyes and crouched down in fear, Norman's light practically blinding him.

"G-G-Get away from me!" he shouted, taking a few steps back. "G-Go on now, you freak!"

The Boris still didn't move, still covered his face with his hands, even when Norman turned the light off to stop blinding the thing.

"Geez, what the hell's wrong with you?!" Norman shouted, his voice breaking and cracking.

Boris peeked out from behind his hands, pointing over Norman's shoulder.

He gulped. He slowly turned around.

This time the scream died in his throat, catching before it could erupt out of him. The grotesque form of an Angel stood before him, smiling widely.

"Well, who do we have here? Another toy for me? Or are you trying to keep me from my Boris?" she cooed. "I only want to have a little fun with him. Ahahahaaha!" That sickly sweet voice of hers dropped off into the laugh, dropping into a guttural, low octave that made him shudder. Her eyes widened fiercely as she reached out for Norman. "GIVE ME MY BORIS!"

Norman screamed, dropping his camera and taking off down the hall as fast as his legs could carry him. Boris was right at his heels, and sometimes, he was right at Boris's heels, each running as far away from the fallen angel as they possibly could. She was always just a step behind them, her furious screams echoing down every hallway.

Norman didn't know his way around the tunnels. He didn't need to go to other areas of the park. Just in and out of the studio. So only a few turns in, and he was already lost, trusting that this frightened Boris at least knew where he was going. But of course, his brain wasn't thinking about things like trust. It was only survival, it was only the hormones and adrenaline pumping into his legs and his lungs, keeping him running and making him wish he didn't smoke every now and then as his lungs lit up with fire, but adrenaline does wonders for pushing away pain too. No, Norman didn't feel the burn. He just felt his heart threatening to burst out of his chest if he didn't keep running. So he did, even as Boris led them both up out of the tunnels, and down hallways that Norman didn't take the time to stop and look at, to notice how familiar they were becoming.

* * *

"Alright now Allison, I've got your microphone right here," Sammy said, moving her to stand closer to the already humming equipment. "Alllll I want you to do is sing a little song. I'm just going to broad cast it through the park a bit. Amplify it so that he may hear it, wherever he may be. Then he'll come here. And now, we don't have a Joey Drew to scare him away."

Allison didn't say anything. She knew the microphone was already turned on, and any words of protest, any words at all, would just be giving Sammy what he wanted. She thought about calling out for Norman, telling him to run and get away, but Sammy was smart, too smart, and even if she didn't use Norman's name, he'd be able to figure out that she wasn't here alone. She couldn't sell Norman out like that.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It had been over an hour since they were supposed to meet. She could only hope that maybe Norman had given up and gone home, gotten out and gotten somewhere safe. But she wasn't sure.

Sammy moved in front of her, ready to conduct her with another wide grin she could see through the hole in his mask. Her glare never left his face, and his arms lingered a moment from their conductor position.

"You're wondering...why I'm doing this, aren't you? Why I'm trying to summon Bendy?" he asked calmly. It sounded like the old Sammy for a bit. Mellow. Calm. Controlled.

She nodded.

"I've spent a long time believing that humanity was our own gods. We created our gods in our art, in our minds, in our songs, and that as a composer, I was just as much a god as any golden man in a cathedral." He chuckled. "Quite egotistical, I know. But it was something to hold onto. It was something to believe, something to tell myself, that I was worth it, that I was doing something worthwhile in this place, in this _hellhole _of a studio where I worked, day in and day out, wasting my talents on children's tunes and watered down symphonies. I could have been writing orchestral masterpieces, but Joey wanted me to write something 'catchy.' Something the kids would like. It was disgusting. I hated it. And I hated that I did it, because I needed the money, and because at least it meant I got to see her..." he trailed off.

"Susie," Allison said, the word echoing throughout the microphone.

Sammy smiled. If Allison could see his eyes behind the mask, she would have seen them reminiscing. Staring off into memories of so long ago. "Now there's a woman. A woman who could sing. A woman who poured her heart and soul into every note, who didn't care that she was being the voice for a pitiful cartoon, no, no she relished the fact that she could be something that thousands saw on the screen. Alice Angel was never just a character to Susie, it _was _Susie. It was her first real personification on the silver screen. And that's what she wanted. Thousands of eyes on her, drowning her in praise, telling her that she was worth more than her humble roots. And I, oh, I was more than willing to throw praise at her, tell her how wonderful she was, relish in the way her eyes looked up at me, shining with admiration...now there's a woman who made me feel like a god. And then...you came along."

She swallowed. She hated the way his mouth twisted up into a grimace.

"And my dear Susie left. Heartbroken and crushed. No words could console her, and then she left. Gone. Disappearing into the wind. Returning to heaven. You have _never _been enough to replace Susie. But I buried those thoughts, I buried my angel because as a god, we can't linger and dwell on when our creations and loves die, we must continue on in our glory!"

"You're crazy," Allison whispered. "You...you've completely lose your mind."

"NO! No, I see Allison. I knew, I knew that wonderful, fateful night in the studio, when Bendy, when my lord appeared before you. I saw that the creations of man could become their own gods, I saw the perfection of such a being, made of ink, such a perfect form. Can you imagine, living like that? Never growing old, never growing hungry, living in a world of ink, shapeless, reborn again and again into the perfect form. THAT is the definition of a god, it is something that is not only created, but that is alive and living without needing to breath! We created LIFE, and that life has become the god of gods. The king of gods. And I will receive his blessing. I will become as he is. I just need to bring him here. I just need YOU."

She didn't make a sound.

"SING!" Sammy screamed, making her flinch.

Fine. You want me to bring your precious god here? You want to see him so badly? That was alright with her. Allison knew that Sammy was delusional, that the Bendy that he worshiped didn't really exist. Bendy was a monster, a horrific abomination, the aftermath of experiments gone wrong. If Sammy didn't see that, it was his own fault. And he'd have to pay the price.

She leaned towards the microphone, closing her eyes and taking a breath.

_"I'm just a lonely angel, sittin' here on a shelf. At times it seemed if I just dreamed, I'd not be by myself."_

Allison was scared. Even as the notes and lyrics left her lips, she shook. As somewhere in the park, the ink demon lifted his head toward the sound, she shook.

This was her only chance. Maybe if she really could lure Bendy here, the resounding chaos of when he came would give her enough time to escape. It was the only chance she had. It was better than trying to stay here with Sammy as insanity crept further and further into his mind.

_"I never gave up hoping that you would come along. How bleak it seems, til you found me. So now I sing my song~"_

She heard wood creak through the studio. The unmistakable sound of ink dripping from the walls. Something was coming alright.

_"I'll be your angel, sent from heaven above, your little angel, cast out for you to love, I'll be your angel, fit me just like a glove. So won't you say, a prayer to me, ba-by?"_

Sammy's breath caught in her throat, and Allison's words died on her lips for just a moment as she faltered. No. She would stay strong. She just kept her eyes closed. She knew that if she opened them, she'd see shadows stretch across the walls. She'd seen the candle flames flicker and burn out.

_"Cause I've been waiting, and I've been so alone, ain't have no-bod-yyyy I can call all my own, so be my angeeeeel, and say a little prayer to meeeee!"_

She heard the hissing. The shaking. Just a little more, Allison. Just a little further. She steeled her nerves, tried to imagine the room disappearing, tried to imagine that it wasn't Sammy standing before her, but Tom. Her Tom. Had she ever sang for him before? Had she ever given him a song, just for him? She didn't think she had. She regretted that now. So she pretended it was him. Just him and her. And nobody else.

_"And when I fall, it's into your arms. I never could resist all your charms, you devil. It's far too late, my soul can't be saved. Cause when I hear you calling my name, it's heaven. Ooo, my heart goes, sha-boop da boop boop, sha-boop da boo wow!"_

"My Lord," Sammy whispered. Allison felt him over her shoulder. She'd probably be safe to run now. But she'd managed to forget about the room for just a moment. She'd managed to forget about Sammy, and Bendy, and Joey, and everyone else. It was just her and Tom. And she was going to finish her song.

_"Brush off my halo and try out my wings, I'm just your puppet when you tug on my strings, I'll be your angeeeeeel, and flyyyy straight into your heaaaaart."_

Allison opened her eyes, biting back her horror as Bendy's eyes stared at her, his mouth shaking up and down with a hiss. He reached for her again, his grin too wide, too gleeful.

Her voice cracked, not needing to be picked up by the microphone now, her shaking and trembles no longer mattering.

_"I'll be your angel, and fly straight into your heart."_

There was a loud, sudden crash from the other end of the studio as the door went sailing open, the remains falling to the ground in splinters. Norman was there, huffing and puffing with his hands on his knees, Boris beside him. He must have been the one to kick down the door. It was a strange sight, the Boris.

He looked furious. And scared. His eyes locked onto Allison's, and he made a made dash for Bendy.

At least, that's what Allison thought. In retrospect, he might have been running from Alice, who was standing behind him, staring at Allison with her mouth agape in fury.

"Shit," Allison whispered, and for one, brief moment, the entire room was still as everyone stared at each other in shock and horror.

And then all hell broke loose.

* * *

**Sorry for the wait on this chapter! I've had a busy few weeks and suffer from chronic migraines (which obviously make writing very hard) so this chapter was a little later than I would have liked. Hopefully the intense content makes up for that though! Look forward to another chapter coming out soon, and thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10: Walk, Don't Run

**Welcome to Bendyland Chapter 10: Walk, Don't Run**

Bendy couldn't roar or scream, so the studio answered his call. The walls and floors shook with his rage as the lights wobbled unsteadily above, throwing sparks down on their heads. Allison shrieked and ducked away, covering her head as Bendy turned to Alice and shadows erupted out of his form, reaching toward her.

Alice could scream, and her melodic voice turned to a banshee's cry as she dove away from the shadows and toward the band chairs and stands. Her eyes were locked onto Allison, wild, crazy, moving toward her as Allison ran for the door. Sammy reached out to catch her arm, but failed as Bendy spun around and inadvertently smacked Sammy out of the way. Sammy cried out, bouncing off of the now cracked recording booth glass and crawling to his hands and knees. "Milord...milord, _please, _please make me like you! A heavenly, inky body, a creation that exists in the dark puddles, I beg of you, I've brought you these sheep, just for you, now please just-"

It wasn't even on purpose. Bendy had barely even looked at Sammy, barely even passed him a glance, he'd just barreled passed him to get to Alice, thrown him against the wall again with a thud, only for Sammy to sink away, drown in the shadows that were quickly spreading to cover every ink of the room. The mask he wore cracked, revealing eyes that changed from crazed, to horrified, to scared, to angry, and then to nothing as he was swallowed up completely. Gone. Just like that, the ink had grabbed Sammy and pulled him away in the chaos.

The room continued to shake as Bendy made lumbering movements toward Alice, grabbing her. She cried out at his touch immediately, the ink around her face melting as if trying to join Bendy's own form. She grabbed a chair and smacked it at his head. It sunk in with a sickening plop. Bendy bat at his face to dislodge the chair as Alice again ran toward Allison.

Allison ran to Norman, who was cowering in the corner, covering his head. "Norman, get up! We have to go!" Allison shouted, dragging the whimpering man to his feet. "We have to go _now!"_

"YOU!" Alice screamed, standing between Allison and the door. Ink pooled and leaked from her eyes, her chest rising and falling with every raspy breath. "You...you took EVERYTHING FROM ME! You took my job! My life! You took everything from me! EVERYTHING!"

Allison's eyes darted wildly around the room, looking for a way out. She wanted to ask Alice what the hell she was talking about, but she was afraid that speaking anymore would just make things worse, somehow make the delusional angel even angrier. Bendy had given up on trying to dislodge the chair, tearing it apart piece by piece and flinging inky wooden shards around the room as the shadows continued to stretched out, grabbing onto planks and ripping them from the walls, dragging the lights down from the ceiling and crashing onto the floor. The creak and groan of wood was deafening.

Boris broke Allison's frantic glances, stepping between her and Alice. He had an old axe in his hands. Allison recognized it as a fireman's axe, really only supposed to be used for emergencies. This definitely qualified.

Alice's angry face broke for a moment into a wide grin. "Pffft...ahahaha! You're the first of the Boris's to ever stand against me! How cute! Ohhhh I can't wait to rip you apart...will you be the one to finally make me beautiful? Or do I need _her?" _she snarled, pointing to Allison.

The Boris was protecting them? He ignored Alice, looking over his shoulder to Allison and Norman for just a moment.

There it was again. That look in his eyes. A feeling Allison couldn't describe. Something right there, some piece she couldn't quite grasp.

"A-Allison, there's a back door this way, up through Sammy's studio!" Norman whispered, grabbing onto her arm. His hands were cold but sweaty, tugging at her insistently as Bendy finally dislodged the chair and turned to the group with a hiss. "Just let the Boris die, we can get out of here!"

She couldn't. This felt too familiar. She couldn't move. She just kept staring at the Boris, who had turned his gaze away from her, was staring at Bendy and Alice as they both moved toward them, backing up step by step.

"Tom?" she whispered.

He tried to hide it. Tried to hide his reaction. But she saw his grip tighten around the axe. She saw his form stiffen.

She saw him smile for just a moment.

Her breath caught in her throat, somewhere between a cry and a hysterical laugh of joy, but Alice reached for Boris, her fingers as sharp as claws, and Bendy made a move to grab for him as well. Their hands were on Boris in an instant. Clawing. Grabbing. Ripping at him to get to them, to get to her, and he fought as much as he could but the two monsters didn't care who he was or why he stood in their way.

Allison was grabbing for her kitchen knife instinctively. Her other hand reached down to grab the axe on the ground as Norman's hand fell from her arm and he disappeared down a door, down another hallway and out of sight, leaving her to her own fate. That was fine. If he wanted to flee up to Sammy's studio and through the back door, she wouldn't stop him or blame him. But she wasn't going to abandon Tom a second time.

She swung the axe at Bendy, his gaze turning to her in shock for just a moment before it sunk into his face. He stumbled backward, nearly pulling Boris with him. Alice pulled him in the other direction. There was a snapping sound. Allison couldn't focus on that though. She turned to Alice while Bendy was stunned, lifting up the kitchen knife and diving it into her chest. Her mouth opened in shock, a tiny squeak of horror as ink bubbled out of the wound. The both of them toppled to the ground, Alice's claws digging into Allison's skin and making her cry out. She didn't let up though, she pulled the knife out in one motion, ready to lift it up again if she needed to.

But she stopped. Alice's face was different for a moment. Scared. Her mouth twisted up as her eyes watered.

"I'm sorry, Allison..." Alice said. "She...she made me do it...it wasn't my fault..."

Allison blinked in confusion. "You...-ack!"

Bendy barreled into her, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her into the air. She kicked wildly, her mouth opening and closing, gasping for air, gasping for breath as she felt his ink grip onto her. He ripped the axe out of his head and tossed it aside, the ink reforming him a moment later. His mouth was shaking up and down so quickly now it became a blur of motion, of teeth, of darkness, and every time she tried to grab at his hand, pull it away from her neck, her fingers just slipped or sunk into the ink, grabbing onto nothing and tainting her fingers black.

She didn't want to die. And she was scared. She kicked out at him with her feet until one of her shoes got stuck in his chest and fell off, but that still didn't stop him as he pushed her harder into the wall, too hard, her bones pressing into the wood and feeling like they might break or snap.

Allison looked down at the Boris on the floor. He wasn't moving. Was she too late? Had they killed him before she could get to him, after finally finding him?

This wasn't exactly how she hoped it would go. If she was going to die, she at least wanted it to mean something. Get the studio shut down. Keep this from happening to anyone else. But she would just be another cover up. Another missing person. Never to be seen again.

Right as her arms started to fall limply to her sides, bright light lit up the room, sweeping over to Bendy and blinding him. Loud cartoon music erupted overhead, and Bendy reared back, dropping Allison and covering his face.

"RUN MISS ALLISON!" Norman shouted, up in Sammy's booth, wildly moving the spotlight back and forth to blind the inky devil.

She tried, but it was still hard to breath and she fell over again when she rose to her feet, fell over and was tumbling down into unconsciousness, even as an arm was lifting her up, grabbing her, supporting her and leading her away from the room and away from the studio.

* * *

She knew. She knew who he was. She had figured it out. The second his name left her lips again, Tom was ready to die. He was ready to die before then, die protecting her, but when she called out his name, it felt like everything he'd been through was worth it, just to hear it one last time.

Remembering was getting harder every night, and impossible during the day. The others, Bendy and Alice, turned into monsters at night, but Tom turned into himself again. Rather, he remembered himself again. Days were a blur of forced smiles, words and lines and music shoved into his brain, taking over his thoughts and forcing him to act like someone else entirely. He acted out a script unknowingly, uncaring, only remembering his name when darkness fell over the studio, where "Tom" would return to him, and soon, "Allison." He'd curl up in some random corner, unable to even cry or speak the names aloud, but repeating them over and over. Tom. Allison. Tom. Allison. He tried to force himself not to forget, to paint on walls or the floors, but without fail, the second the sun rose and the park opened, those names were swept away from him, and Boris took the stage.

Now here she was. Allison. Why hadn't she left? Why hadn't she heeded his warning and gotten out like he tried to tell her to?

He knew why. Because of him. He should have just lied and told her that he was leaving and hated her or something. Even the thought of saying such a blatant lie made his stomach hurt. But it's what he should have done.

He was selfish in being glad she recognized him. He tried so hard not to give it away. Not to turn around and throw his arms around her. He thought it would be better if she didn't know. After all, Tom thought that he was about to die. He didn't want Allison to have to feel that kind of pain twice.

That hadn't exactly worked out as planned, because now, here they were.

Tom sat at Allison's side, pulling the blanket up further around her after cleaning the remaining ink off of her neck. The man she was with, who Tom didn't recognize, was sitting on the other side of the room, trying not to shake like a leaf. Tom shot him glares every now and then, even though he knew it was stupid to be jealous. He had saved their life, so that was something. But what was Allison doing with him anyway? Shifting, mousy guy like that...

When Tom had pulled Allison away from Bendy, Norman had nearly tried to take her from him, to pull her along and leave Tom behind, but one look from Tom sent the man shrieking and backing away.

If he could talk, he'd have quite a few choice words for him.

"Y-Y-You're not going to hurt her, are you?" the man stuttered. "B-B-Because I won't let you if that's, uh, if that's gonna be the case! She's a good friend a' mine who really helped me out. Or...well, I guess she kinda got me into this mess to begin with...b-but still!"

Tom scowled at him, and he clammed up immediately.

"G-Guess if you were going to hurt her, you would have done it by now, huh..." he stuttered. "Well, that there's Miss Allison. And I'm Norman."

Tom tried not to roll his eyes too obviously.

"Thank you for...well, for letting us get away."

Tom didn't want his thanks. He hadn't done it for him. If he hadn't been making so much noise in those tunnels, Alice wouldn't have found them at all. Tom had almost lost that crazy angel down there in the tunnels until Norman had to go and start screaming. Then they all ended up going right toward Bendy...what a mess.

"Sorry you...lost your arm," Norman said.

Tom didn't answer. He couldn't, of course, but he wouldn't have known what to say in this instance anyway. Small price to pay, he guessed. Not sure what Joey would think of an armless Boris. It might mean trouble. It might mean he gets replaced, or killed off. He might need to stay in hiding for a while, but he wasn't sure how that would work, turning back into "Boris" during the day. Would he mindlessly wander out of whatever hiding spot he'd manage to find, urged on by the sound of children laughing, knowing it was his job to entertain? He needed to find a place to lock himself away. Someplace he wouldn't be found, or be able to get out of if he tried. The place they were in now was just a temporary shelter he'd manage to set up underneath the studio, in an old abandoned room at the edges of the tunnels. It might do, but he wasn't sure.

Allison stirred, and Tom stiffened, waiting for her to wake up, to see her eyes open again, to hear her voice. But instead, she just rolled over. Tom breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. This was...hard. Harder than he thought. Maybe he should just leave now. Try to find another empty room and barricade himself in.

She'd be mad if he left before she could wake up...but daylight was steadily approaching. He could feel it. Parts of his past and memories starting to slip away. He didn't want to be here when that happened. He wasn't strong enough to force that on her.

Tom stood and headed for the door out of the room.

"Y-you're leaving?" Norman asked. "But she, she hasn't woken up yet..."

Tom glared down at him, pointed to him firmly, then pointed to Allison.

"Stay and watch her. Got it," he squeaked.

Good. He was able to communicate something at least.

He looked over his shoulder at her. Allison. So many things he wished he could say, but goodbye wasn't one of them. Tom bit back a silent sigh and headed out of the room.

* * *

Sammy stirred on the ground, trying to pry himself to at least his hands and knees despite his body screaming out in pain. Every single part of him hurt like hell. Hurt more than words would describe. But the aching in his chest was the worst.

Betrayed. Abandoned. Barely even looked upon. Like he was just a bug. An ant. An insect. Worth nothing in the eyes of his god, even after all the trouble he'd gone through. All he needed was a glance, an acknowledgment. His request hadn't been too much, had it? Simply asking to be like him, to wander these halls eternally as a being of ink...

Maybe it was too much to ask for. But then, what else did Sammy have? This had been his life for years. His calling. His god. But no. Bendy really was nothing more than a devil. A horrible, terrible, awful demon who had used Sammy and then cast him aside.

Sammy flopped back down to the ground, his bare face landing in a puddle of ink. It'd be stained black by the morning. His recording studio was a mess. Ink was dripping from every corner. Bendy had long since disappeared, Sammy didn't care where anymore. Wooden boards and lights had fallen from the ceilings and walls. The projector screen had been ripped in half chairs thrown against the wall. The spotlight flickered, battery slowly dying, nothing but the dull, repeating sounds of the cartoon audio as the record hit a scratch and repeated the same tune again and again and again.

It was only a matter of time before Mister Joey Drew came by to see him, or maybe one of the other workers. They'd see the mess and go running, and Joey would march down. Probably fire Sammy. Take his studio and his work away from him. Sammy didn't have the strength to even try to protect anymore, his muscles still aching. He may have even broken a few bones or gotten a concussion. He wasn't sure. He didn't really care about that either.

Footsteps. Heels? That's odd. Maybe one of the workers was already there. He was sure he looked like a mess.

Someone leaned down. He struggled to look up and see who it was, to at least meet their eyes with his own blank, defeated ones.

Ah. So it was the angel. Alice. The deformed seraph.

She knelt down to him, lifted up his face in her hands. There was a wound in her chest, quickly sealing with ink as the sun started to rise, and her form healed back to its "true self."

"Hello Sammy. Do you know who I am?"

Of course he did. Alice Angel. He was too exhausted to care though, his whole head was pounding too much for him to even try to speak, and he felt the room spinning around them both. If she were going to kill him, she should just get on with it.

"I used to be Susie. Pretty little Susie. Do you remember?"

The room stopped spinning.

"But then...they made me an angel. A real angel, Sammy. I never went missing at all..." she giggled.

His mouth was open in shock, but she carried on.

"Sometimes I forget, you know. Forget I was never anything but an angel. They've made me so ugly...I just want to be beautiful. I just want to be the perfect angel. That's all. Bendy betrayed me too, you know. Bendy and Joey Drew. But I would never betray you, Sammy. Even though you betrayed me."

Her grip around his face tightened. Her nails dug into his skin. But his eyes never left her face. He barely noticed the pain anymore.

How could he have not seen it before?

"What do you say Sammy?" she cooed. "Want to help make me beautiful and perfect? Do you want to walk with angels?"

He couldn't speak. His jaw wouldn't form the words. He's not sure if the praise he babbled would make much sense to her anyway. His angel. His true goddess. His Susie. What a fool he was for looking to Bendy before now, when a true angel was here before him all along.

She laughed, music to his ears, pulling him away to somewhere he didn't know, but his heart felt light again, even as his bones ached and screamed their pains, her humming under her breath swept him away as the angel claimed a new follower.

* * *

**Well that was a fun chapter~ And things will only get crazier from here~**

**Thanks for reading Welcome to Bendyland. Stayed tuned for the next chapter soon!**

**(Oh, also, random side note, but I haven't gotten a chance to purchase/read the new "Employee Manual" book, and likely won't be able to read the other Bendy book releasing soon for a while as well, so pretty please avoid spoilers for those two things in the comments. I'm going to get around to reading them soon, but not immediately, and have actually done really well in avoiding all spoilers thus far and would like to keep it that way. Thanks in advance!)**


	11. Chapter 11: The Dancing Demon Smiles

**Chapter 11: The Dancing Demon Smiles at You!**

He shouldn't have come. But he'd been trying to call Norman back all day, and hadn't heard a word, and got worried and...

Who was he kidding? This wasn't about Norman. This wasn't about Allison either.

Henry had gone to the park because he could no longer pretend to be ignorant of what was happening. Even if it was his downfall, even if he lived to regret it for the rest of his life, he had to know what was going on in the studio. He had to know if Joey, if Bendy, if his legacy, was beyond saving. So here he was, parked outside of the gates, watching families line up outside with tickets in-hand. Even on a weekday, it was busy. He knew he should probably get in the line himself, but he still lingered, leaning against the hood of his car and running a hand through his hair or his face. He forgot to shave this morning. He felt bad for lying to Linda. He knew she wouldn't buy his hasty sticky-note stuck to the fridge, claiming to have to rush into work somewhere. No, she wouldn't buy it for a second.

But she wouldn't get mad at him. She wouldn't demand to know where he was. She trusted him, for better or worse, and even if Henry had told her the truth, she wouldn't have cared. Would have just smiled, kissed his cheek, and told him to be safe. He didn't deserve her.

A smiling park attendant walked up the gates, opening them with a large flair as a few children cheered happily. Soon, waves of people were moving through the queue, tickets were punched and lined up neatly, and he could hear familiar showtunes and rides in the distance. His hands started to sweat as the line died down to a trickle. He couldn't keep waiting in front of his car forever. He had to face this. From a distance, he could see how magnificent the park was. Large, wooden buildings and painted ink signs. Joey really had rolled with the theme of "cartoons brought to life." Even from his car, he felt like he was about to step foot into a whole other black and white world. It was a little unsettling.

He wasn't even sure what he was so scared of. His own guilt, maybe? Jealousy, wishing that he really had stuck around with Joey to be a real part of the park?

No. He still didn't regret his choice to leave, even after Joey made it big. That was the one decision he would never regret, even if it was the hardest one he ever had to make. Joey was going too far to achieve his dreams, he was crossing lines Henry wouldn't dare go near, and that was the last straw. Henry refused to let his dreams be achieved by making his life a nightmare.

"Is that Mister Henry Stein I see there?!"

Henry turned and blinked, but then smiled. "Hey Wally, how are ya?"

Wally grinned at Henry, walking over and slapping an arm around his shoulder as if they'd seen each other just yesterday. "Well, whattaya know! Henry Stein, in the flesh! Here to see the park? Sure did take ya long enough! Does Joey know?"

"No," Henry said tensely. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way for now."

"Oh I understand, don't you worry, that Joey Drew is a wild one and I don't blame you for steering clear. Better keep your head down though, he's bound to be in the park or studio somewhere. Guess the workers found some big mess this morning and he's in a foul mood."

"I'll keep that in mind," Henry said.

"Well, I better get back to work...I lead the whole cleaning crew now, you know! Though if I have one more big mess I have to clean up, Iiiiiii'm outta here!" Wally said, throwing his hands up in the air as he walked through a side door. "See ya later Henry!"

Henry shook his head and chuckled as the man disappeared. Odd one, that Wally, but never in a bad way. He was a good guy, never bothered Henry much. He couldn't say they were close or anything, but knowing that not every old worker hated his guts was oddly reassuring. He even, for a brief moment, hoped that maybe being reunited with Joey wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Maybe they'd even smile, reminisce about the old times, put all of this bad gossip about evil park doings behind them. Grab a drink. Talk a while.

No. As much as Henry wanted to hope something like that was possible, he knew it wasn't. Even if he didn't know exactly what was going on in the studio, seeing the fear in Allison's eyes and the hush in Norman's voice was enough to tell Henry that something really was wrong with this park, even before he stepped inside. And Joey Drew was probably at the heart of it. Henry just hoped that maybe even a small piece of his old friend remained, tucked away deep within that wrinkle-free suit and smile.

He got off of his car and made his way to the gate, purchasing a ticket, far pricier than he would have liked, and headed inside. He'd used a fake name for the ticket, Jack Walters, just to avoid any concern. It had been years since he'd worked here, but if Wally recognized him by face, then who knows who else would recognize him by name.

The line had all but died down when Henry walked through it, stepping through the gates to stare in awe at the park around him. The pavement was dotted with random grinning faces, cardboard cutouts lined rigged games and balloon stands, and rides were already swirling in the distance. And he'd barely made it two steps into the park. His ticket nearly fell out of his hands. Joey really did pull out all the stops. He never half-assed a dream. And standing here, before it all, it was easy to see how beautiful a dream it really was in the beginning. A world to make people laugh and smile, and people were.

Though the people, in a way, were the one thing that felt out of place at the park. While even the workers were dressed in muted hues of black and white, the attendees were dressed in colorful clothes, blue jeans, and hats that popped out as little blots of colored in the otherwise monochrome park. It felt wrong, somehow, seeing them walk among the cartoons. It felt less like the cartoon world had been brought to life, and more like they had been sucked into it.

That distraction didn't last long though, as a roller coaster cart zoomed by over head, chased by excited and fearful squeals before ducking over a hill and out of view. It looked like fun, fun Henry might even stand in line for if the thought didn't make his stomach twist and his bones hurt. Geez, he was getting old...

**"THE MORNING PARADE IS CURRENTLY CANCELLED DUE TO TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. BENDY AND ALICE WILL BE WALKING AROUND THE PARK SHORTLY, AND WE ENCOURAGE YOU TO SHARE YOUR SMILES WITH THEM. THANK YOU FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING!"**

The too-chipper voice was a little unsettling, but Henry tried not to let it bother him as he walked along, still staring in awe at his creation spread across every sign and shop. A picture of Bendy eating ice cream, that was new artwork, but some of his old artwork from the cartoons remained, plastered around every corner and advertisement. It was like stepping into a monochrome wonderland in the best possible way. Was this Joey's dream all along? Had this been what he'd envisioned from the beginning? Henry may not have been swayed by Joey's words at the end, but it was easy to see how others could be, if this was the end result all along.

He had all but forgotten why he had even come there for a few moments, too in awe that something he had a part in creating was here, making people laugh, smile, staring back at him. He was a part of this. He had helped create this. This was partly his legacy, and in that moment, it was too easy to forget why he had come here, the horrible truth lingering beneath the surface. It was easy to believe, as he walked down pathway after pathway, smiled and laughed along with children and parents, that Allison had showed up at his door drenched in rain and fear. How could such a happy place hide evil?

Something grabbed onto his leg, making Henry pause mid-stride. He looked down, expecting maybe a lost child or someone who accidentally bumped him with their bag or-

"B...Bendy?" Henry said, his voice wavering.

The small figure on his leg tightened its grip, burying its face into Henry's leg. He barely came up passed Henry's knee. Henry was froze stiff, frozen solid, staring down at this toon. Finally, Bendy pulled his head back and smiled up at Henry, eyes wide, grin stretching up from ear to ear, like a child happy to see a long-lost parent after returning home from work.

Henry made some sort of choked noise, something catching in his throat as his mouth hung open in shock. Bendy looked up at him expectantly, almost as if waiting for a hug, for something. He thought maybe he should do that, he felt that it would probably be right to scoop the toon up his arms, try to take him away from this awful place.

Instead, Henry felt nothing but fear. He'd never seen the toons like this. In the flesh. The ink. However it was that Joey brought them to life. Seeing Bendy here sent shivers down his spine. He had to clench his hands into fists to fight the urge to pull back away from the small cartoon's embrace. Part of him even wanted to kick him away, send him sailing and run, run far away back into Linda's arms and leave this life behind. He shouldn't have come. He knew he shouldn't, and seeing Bendy here solidified that. This was a creature _of his own creation_. A passing thought, a figment of his imagination, just one part of a screaming, buzzing well of voices.

If Bendy noticed Henry's disdain, he didn't show it. He instead reached up and grabbed Henry's clenched fist, pulling him along and leading him into the park. Henry's feet didn't want to move, or if they did, it was in the opposite direction, away and out of this park, away from this creation, _his _creation, something that had come from his mind and his pen, but he couldn't. He just followed along numbly, unable to do anything else. People laughed and gawked, pointing at the pair and smiling at Bendy, but their smiles felt as fake as Bendy's twitching on the edges, ink dripping around the smiling as if at any moment he'd burst apart at the seems and transform into something else entirely.

* * *

Allison slowly stirred. Her whole body hurt and felt sore, like she'd just been through hell. Considering she'd come face to face with a demon, she supposed her analogy wasn't too far off. But if she hurt, that meant she was alive. The last thing she remembered was a bright light, falling to the ground, then nothing. Had Norman got out? Was it Norman with the light? And more importantly...

She sat up in a hurry, her eyes widening as she looked around. "Tom! Tom?!"

Norman jolted awake, seated in a chair across the room from her. "A-Ah! Miss Allison! Y-Yer awake, thank goodness...I was gettin' real worried about ya, I mean, it's been hours...thought maybe about takin' you to a hospital, b-but I've been too scared to leave all on my own, and you seemed fine...a-ah! Not that I checked you or anything! I mean, I did, but nothin' you need to worry about and I-"

Allison held up her hand, cutting him off. "Norman, just...stop talking. Where's T...where's the Boris? From before?"

"Oh, that Boris? He left a few hours ago. Freaky thing...can't get over how he kept glarin' at me. He had lost an arm too, not sure how they're gonna fix that one up before the parade, but he's gone now, so we're okay," Norman said, giving her a shaky grin.

Allison's eyes narrowed and Norman gulped. She stood, wobbling unsteadily as the room spun around her. She shakily fell back onto the bed, Norman rushing over only for her to shoo him away again.

"You really should rest, Miss Allison. Bendy nearly killed ya back there...we should maybe get you to a hospital I think..."

"And tell them what?" Allison said, gently rubbing her sore neck. She couldn't see the bruises, but she knew they were there. "That an inky demon tried to choke me to death in Joey Drew Studios? I'd get thrown into a mental institution, or worse, jail, if Joey found out. No. I'm fine." She sighed and turned to Norman. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Scared outta my gourd, but I'm fine," Norman said, taking off his glasses to clean them. "So much is happening...I shoulda just kept my nose down and stayed out of the dark places..."

"If you had done that, I'd probably be dead," Allison said. "So, thank you for not just hiding away."

Norman blinked, staring at her for a long moment before clearing his throat and looking away. He didn't want her to notice the pink in his cheeks. "A-ah, you're welcome. Happy to help."

"You said the Boris left. Which way did he go? Did he say anything beforehand?" she asked, wishing her legs had the strength to move, get up, and follow after him. If it really was Tom...why did he leave her?

"Sorry Miss, he didn't say. Didn't make any sound at all, really, unlike that Allison. And he just left. I didn't follow where he went."

Of course the Boris didn't say anything. He didn't have a voice actor, so the cartoon version of Boris was always silent. It made sense that the real-life incarnation would share the same features. She didn't even know if Boris had vocal cords at all.

Could it really be Tom? She wasn't sure. She was second-guessing herself, hung up on overthinking things. Maybe it had just been blind hope. Maybe she'd looked too into his subtle reactions when she'd called out his name. But why else would a Boris try to protect her? As bizarre and strange as having the Boris be Tom felt, it made sense in a horrific way. Boris's died often. Tom's men went missing often. Was Joey somehow turning Tom's old workers, and eventually Tom himself, into Boris's? Had Tom really been here all along, right under her nose?

Allison's heart sank when she remembered that first night she'd snuck into the park. The first night Tom went missing.

She'd run into the Boris then too. The way he looked at her had been the same. A thousand trapped words behind fearful and sad eyes.

There was no mistaking it. That Boris was Tom. It _had _to be, but knowing that made her fearful too. Why would he leave? Where was he now? Tom wouldn't leave without a good reason, so she just had to trust him. Just had to put herself into his shoes. What would Tom do?

"You said the Boris lost an arm?" Allison asked, hiding the crack in her voice with a weak cough.

"Yeah, just torn clean off after gettin' in between you and Alice. Geez, she sure was scary..." Norman said.

Tom would know that he couldn't go back to the parade with a broken arm. If he was seen, Joey would replace him. But why wouldn't he hide here, with them? Allison put a hand to her chin, trying to line the pieces up. It wasn't like Tom to act like Boris, but it was also undeniable that when she'd seen Boris around the park, he'd acted normally. Like all the other Boris's before him. It didn't make sense that if Joey was transforming people into cartoons for them to just pretend like nothing was wrong, unless they really didn't know any better. Bendy and Alice, they were the same way too. Every day they acted like nothing was wrong, and only at night did they reveal their true selves. It _had _to be the same with Tom. Come daybreak, Tom probably reverted back to the Boris's regular mannerisms unwillingly. And, if he really had lost an arm, that meant that trying to go up to the crowd and acting like Boris would be dangerous.

"He hid himself away somewhere," Allison whispered. "Somewhere he wouldn't be able to get out..."

"Huh? Did you say something, Miss Allison?"

She ignored him, still too deep in her thoughts. If Tom was Boris, then who were the others? She forced herself to remember more of what happened last night, prying over every memory, every question in her mind.

Alice. That part was particularly...horrifying. What had she said again? How Allison had taken everything from her? She'd screamed that at first, but then when Allison had her pinned to the ground...

_"She made me do it..."_

Susie?

No. That's impossible. Susie was dead, she couldn't be...

Wait. Susie wasn't dead. Susie was _missing. _After talking with Joey. After Allison replaced her. It hadn't really made sense why she'd had to replace her, if Allison really looked at it. Financially it didn't make sense, but practically it didn't make sense either. They'd already produced a good few cartoons with Susie's voice, why change it so suddenly, even if Allison sounded similarly to Susie?

Allison felt cold. Her whole body felt like ice as she tried to keep herself from panicking, tried to keep herself from screaming in fright. What the hell had Joey done? Had Joey taken real, living, breathing people, done something with the ink machine, and turned them into living, breathing cartoons? How? Why? Had Joey really lost his humanity so much that he'd stoop this low? She wasn't sure what was worse, but remembering all of those files of missing persons, the cartoons big and small that went missing and then reappeared as if nothing had happened...

"Help me walk," she said sternly, pushing herself back to her feet. The room still spun, but not quite as bad now, not in the way that made her want to hurl. She could at least stay standing, but walking was another matter entirely.

Norman gulped. "O-okay, but where are we going?"

"It's still daytime, right?" she asked.

He checked his watch. "Yeah, barely even midday."

"Good. We've got plenty of time before nightfall then to find Tom," Allison said.

"Sure, but, shouldn't we be getting out of here? Do you really think your friend is still alive?" Norman stuttered.

"I know he is. And we're going to find a way to save him. I just have to find him first," Allison said. "Before Joey does. We need to find that Boris."

"You think that Boris was..." Norman paled. "Oh...oh God, o-oh God, you think Joey's been..."

"I don't know for sure," Allison said. "But it makes sense. A lot makes sense. It makes sense why Joey hadn't just fired me. He needs replacements for if something goes wrong with the toons. I'm Alice's replacement. The Boris's get replaced by anybody, since Boris doesn't talk."

"I hope you're wrong, but I think I'm following. God above, this is...ugh, I think I'm going to get sick..." Norman clutched at his stomach, and Allison took a cautious step back. She didn't blame him. She was feeling pretty nauseous at the prospect herself. "Wait a moment," Norman said. "Then...then who's Bendy? Who would his replacement be? Surely it couldn't just be anybody...not the star of the show. So who's meant to replace him if something goes wrong?"

"I don't know," Allison admitted, letting Norman carefully lead her out the door while her feet slowly found their footing. "There's still too many mysteries to unravel, and I'm not sure if I'm completely right in the ones I've solved. There's only one way to know for sure, and that's to find Tom. To find Boris. If it really is him, then we can start to find the answers."

"But...what if it is him? How are we supposed to save them? To save everyone, and turn them back to normal?"

Allison didn't answer him. That was the one question she'd been asking herself this whole time, and had been trying to ignore. She didn't want to think about that, because she was too terrified of the thought that after finding Tom, after finally finding him, that she might never be able to save him after all.

* * *

Henry stared up at the old studio before him. It had been a long time. He wasn't expecting Bendy to lead him here. Of course, he wasn't really expecting Bendy to lead him anywhere at all, but even through the whole walk over here, he never found the strength or courage to pull away. He just kept staring at Bendy in a sense of bewilderment and horror, all rolled into one dumbstruck expression that probably came off as something close to shock. Maybe he was in shock. He felt numb all over, and perhaps like he wasn't reacting how he should be, almost like he was watching his body from the outside in. But here they were, outside of the studio, with Bendy pointing up at it and smiling.

"Henry?"

Bendy's grip around Henry's hand tightened. It almost hurt. How can something so small have such a tight grip?

Henry turned around, saw Joey standing before him with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and his hands pushed into his pockets. There was a few feet between them, but it didn't feel like enough, not with Henry's back to an iron gate and the studio, and Joey between him and his only chance of running away. In the distance, Henry could hear the sounds of screams and laughter as a ride kicked up, whirled around, and then went quiet again.

Joey blankly looked down at Bendy. "I see you've met Bendy."

"Y...yeah," Henry said, his voice catching in his throat. Joey looked like he'd barely changed a day. His suit was more expensive now, perhaps a bit more composed, but his eyes were still cold. Still blank. No amount of smiles in the world could cover up the hatred in Joey's eyes.

Joey sighed, taking a long drag from his cigarette and tapped the ashes to the cobblestone ground below. He walked over to the bench leaning up against the iron fence and took a seat, loosening his tie.

"Have a seat, old friend. I'm sure we have lots to talk about."

* * *

**Don't think too lowly of Henry in this chapter for fearing Bendy. I mean, can we really blame him? If one of my characters or doodles suddenly appeared before me...well, I'd probably be really freaked out too. I hope I was able to accurately portray how I think Henry would feel. I imagine that really living in this scenario would be really frightening and bizarre. After some of the stories I've written, I'd be terrified to see my characters come to life (looking at you Clara from _The Color of the Cure_).**

**Look forward to seeing how things continue. This story is far, far from over. They haven't yet reached THE END.**


	12. Chapter 12: Unpaid Overtime

**Chapter 12: Unpaid Overtime**

This wasn't what Henry expected when he came to the park. Not in the slightest. How long had it been since he'd sat next to Joey? Even back when he still worked in the studio, it had been a while. Now, he could barely remember a time when they casually sat side by side, watching people and clouds go by.

"You look good," Joey said, then took a long drag from his cigar. "Linda still good too?"

"Yeah," Henry said. "She's doing good. Pregnancy was hard, but we're on the up and up."

"Ah, that's right. Little girl, right?" Joey smiled, staring off into the park. He hadn't met Henry's eyes yet. Not that Henry had had the courage to meet his eyes either. "That's good."

"Yeah. Nearly a year old already."

A chuckle. "She'll be walking before you know it. Everyone says they grow up fast."

Henry cleared his throat. It caught halfway, but he managed to avoid coughing. He was so focused on the conversation that he'd barely noticed Bendy running off just in front to entertain more guests. People squealed and cheered as he spun around them.

"You've met Bendy then."

Henry swallowed. "Joey...how?"

"I'll show you. Later. Right now...let's just enjoy the nice weather, hm? It's been raining so much lately, getting a little sun is more than needed."

Henry didn't want to wait until later. He wanted answers. He wanted to tear open this park and see the dark truths lying beneath the cobblestone. He was so blinded by the storefronts selling turkey legs and rides lit up with bright bulbs and lights that he'd nearly forgotten why he'd come here. This place was like a spell, casting an illusion over every guest that stepped inside. How could people play with Bendy, how could they walk up and interact with something that so clearly wasn't an animatronic or person in a costume? They knew something was wrong, Henry did too, but the magic of this place pushed him into complacency, so content to stare at signs and listen to music to question it more than a second. Was that part of Joey's trick too? Was there really something supernatural to this park? He'd have brushed off all thoughts as nonsense before, but he didn't know what to believe now.

"Have you seen Bertrum's rides? He's really outdone himself. He's working on a new roller coaster right now. He just finished the ferris wheel last month. We're having our grand opening for it in two weeks. Going to be a great celebration. For the first time, I'm keeping the park open late so that all the guests can see the ferris wheel lit up with lights," Joey said.

"The park isn't normally open to dark?" Henry asked.

"No," Joey said briskly. "But we're working on fixing that. Just have to replace a few things here and there."

Henry ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward.

"You look tired, Henry."

"...I haven't been sleeping lately," he said.

Joey smiled. Soft. Sympathetic. Lingering remnants of a friend that Henry would stay up late into the night with, lamenting over drinks at a bar downtown before piling off into cabs. It would be so easy to close his eyes and pretend that those moments had returned. That the well of voices in the background were just patrons at the bar getting a little too loudly, that the warm sunlight was just a foggy haze caused by booze and jolly cheer.

"I don't get much sleep myself these days. Too many things I'm cooking up in the kitchen," Joey said.

"Always did have a lot of ideas in that head of yours. I'm glad to see them all come out to fruition. I really am," Henry admitted. "I always wanted everyone else to see the world that Joey Drew envisioned. All lit up and glowing brightly. I'm glad to see it now."

Joey beamed. "I come out to the park every day to see smiling faces, to catch a glimpse of that world myself. It doesn't feel real sometimes. Having it all right here in front of me. Not that I'm satisfied yet. There's still so many things I have planned."

Henry laughed. "You're never satisfied. But hey, you've got Gent backing you up now, right? They're funding all of your big projects?"

Joey smile fell. His head turned, away from the light, and Henry couldn't see his eyes anymore. "Yes. They've been very accommodating for my projects."

"That's...good, right?" Henry asked.

Joey didn't answer. He tapped the cigar on his knee, the ashes getting quickly squashed under his foot. He stood up, glancing over at Bendy again. "...why don't I show you the studio? A lot's changed since you've left. We've taken out a wall or two. Added in a few things. And I'll show you how I've created Bendy."

Henry stood up as well. He wanted to turn him down, but couldn't. Despite the foreboding feeling in his stomach, Henry had caught a glimpse of Joey. Of his old friend.

Maybe it wasn't too late to save Joey after all. Maybe he just had to push him a little harder.

"Lead the way," Henry said, and the two walked up to the old studio that Henry had left behind. Bendy chased after them a moment later, latching onto Henry's hand. Again, Henry was petrified, and even stopped in his walking for a moment.

Joey paused and turned. "...seems like he knows who his creator is."

"I didn't," Henry whispered, staring down at the little demon again. "I mean I...it was just..."

Bendy tilted his head at him.

"Now now Henry," Joey said. "You're a father, aren't you? Can't just walk away from that."

Henry paled. "No. This is...this is different, and you know it."

Joey chuckled and kept walking. Henry's feet were forced to follow.

* * *

It took a while to find him. They'd nearly gotten lost in the twisting halls, but finally, Allison found a door barricaded away from the rest. It was out of the way, an old maintenance closet. That's how she knew he'd be in there. Having a maintenance closet locked was one thing, no one would bat an eye. Having it barricaded was another, and she could see through the small, foggy window into the closet that someone had done just that with shelves and wood. She twisted the knob, but it was locked of course. She heaved and slammed her body against the door, feeling nothing but solid wood greet her.

"Miss Allison, you'll hurt yourself! Be careful!" Norman stuttered.

Allison rubbed her shoulder and stepped back. "He's in there. Gotta be."

"O-okay, so how do you suppose we go gettin' him outta there?"

Allison crossed her arms. "Well, I don't think we do. He's locked himself in. He can get out from the inside. We'll just have to wait until he comes to his senses."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to stick around here?" Norman asked. "Listen Miss Allison, I've been happy to help you, but Joey's gonna notice I'm gone soon. I...I've helped you a lot, but I don't know if I can help much more. I wanna leave and get outta here."

"I understand," Allison said. She turned back to the door.

Norman paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're uh...you're not coming?"

"No."

"How come?!"

"I've finally found Tom. I'm not about to let him go."

"That's...listen, if I believe you that that's your friend, what makes you think you can help him? He's...I mean, he's clearly not human anymore. Maybe you should just let him go," Norman squeaked. "I know that's hard to believe, but...but you just might end up getting yourself hurt trying to save him. Wouldn't it be better to just leave? Get out while ya still can? We could end up just like him!"

"I'm not leaving," Allison said plainly.

Norman was expecting her to get angry. But she didn't turn away from his words. She knew they were probably true, but that didn't stop her. Why? Could this person mean that much to her? He couldn't wrap his head around the thought. But he'd done all he could. Their plan to take the studio down didn't work. Even if they wanted to try again, Norman was done. He was too scared now. He wanted out. He wanted to run away from this place. Take his projection and get the hell out of here. She'd be smart to follow him, but he could tell she wouldn't.

"...good luck, Miss Allison," Norman said, and walked away.

Allison gave a half-wave and smile. "Thanks for your help, Norman." She let her hand fall back to her side once he disappeared around the corner and sighed, running a hand through her hair. She leaned back against the door, sinking down to the ground.

Alone again. Back to square one, and with more problems than she started with. What was she supposed to do now?

She heard a thump against the door, soft noises. Yeah. Tom was back there. Just a bit away from her. Locking himself away. How was she going to fix this? How was she going to get him out of this mess? Could she? What...what would she do if she couldn't? Allison ran a hand through her hair again, holding her palms against her skull and trying to slow down the rampant thoughts. The tape with her recordings still pressed heavily against her pocket.

Norman and her's plan had failed but...maybe it wasn't too late to continue. Would that be best though? Throwing this whole place to hell was one thing, but that meant throwing Tom into this hell as well. Dammit...

No. There was only one person who caused this chaos. And one person who could fix it. She just needed more leverage. Allison checked her watch. It was still several hours until close, and now that she knew where Tom was...

She stood. This wasn't over yet. She just needed a bit more, just a bit more information to use against Joey. She just had to find it. What had Norman said? About an ink machine? Tom had mentioned something about that too. She just wasn't sure where to find it.

She felt a plop of water on her foot. No. Not water. Thick, black, ink. Dripping from the pipes above her.

All she had to do was follow the pipes filled with ink. They would show her the way.

"I'll be back Tom," Allison said. "Just hold on. I'll find a way to fix this." She followed the paths, keeping her eyes upward, looking for ink stains and dripping trails. Tom's workers were good, but even a few days without Tom here to make repairs, the pipes looked ready to burst, leaking and flooding the halls with ink. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed how chaotic it had become. Just another way that Joey had taken Tom, had taken all of these workers and this place, for granted. She followed the pipes, deep into the studio, until they disappeared down a locked corridor with a sturdy iron grate. Allison pulled the knife out of her pocket. It wasn't strong enough to break the padlock, but she shoved it into the chain, holding her grip firm on the handle to prevent the metal from snapping, and pushed the cheap chains open until they snapped. The lock fell off, and Allison stepped through the grate.

She'd never been to this part of the studio before. It was pitch black ahead. There were no lights or anything, and the wooden floors looked relatively unused. Even a lighter would be something, but she didn't have that. Pressing her hand to the wall, Allison felt her way forward until she came to a flight of stairs leading down, down, down, deep below the studio. She couldn't hear the cheering and parades up above anymore. No more creaking wood. Deep, dark, silence. The only thing keeping her fearful heart from leaping out of her chest was the brief comfort in knowing that Bendy was up above in the park entertaining guests, and Alice had been taken care of the night before.

She was gone...right?

Allison shook the thoughts away and pressed on into the darkness. She took each step carefully, never knowing if she was about to run into a wall or off a cliff. Where could this place possibly lead? Was she even going in the right direction? She didn't know anymore, but she kept at it, until finally, finally, she reached a door. It wasn't locked, likely assuming that whoever made it this far was supposed to be here. That certainly worked for her, and she turned the handle and stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. The thick, dizzying smell of ink that made her head spin, like she were surrounded by it. Covering her nose with her hand, she blinked up at the few flickering candles that dotted around the shadowy room. They hung in tiny sections around the room, suspended by wires or scattered about the ground in groups of three or four. The wax pooled below them, immune to the ink, and their flickering flames would have almost been cozy.

Almost.

In front of her, the enormous ink machine stood suspended by clinking chains. It was attached to some larger machine, churning out floods of ink into a canal. Not just any canal, the canal that was _supposed_ to catch rain water, the canal that Joey had told them was to prevent flooding. Now, Allison knew the truth. The roaring rushes of water were really rivers of ink running just beneath the surface of the park. The canals stretched down every drain pipe and well under the park, as did all the underground walkways. They collected the ink and washed it to every inch of the park. Streets were held up by flimsy wooden boards and pipes, but just under the surface was an ocean, waiting to swallow guests whole.

Allison was caught in awe at the sight of it, too stunned to feel any horror. The whole machine looked wrong, some mix of an inkwell and pipe, all nuts and bolts and metal and chains in all the wrong places. Most machines looked odd, but this just felt so unnatural surrounded by candles and symbols on the ground, like some sort of alter, and still it kept churning ink down below, far down below where she could see.

Did Tom know about this? Did Tom really help build this? Why? Why would Tom ever want to help create such a thing, and what the hell was Joey doing with it anyway?

Sound caught her off guard as she heard footsteps coming from the hallway behind her. In a panic, Allison looked around for some place to hide. She couldn't even see the end of the walls with the candlelight being so faint, and she was worried that one wrong, frantic step would lead to her tumbling down to the rivers below. Wincing, Allison ran to the ink machine, hiding behind the large, metal pipe, and praying it would be enough. As one final precaution, she blew out the candles nearest to her, cloaking the side of the machine, and herself, in darkness.

Joey stepped through the doorway, putting his hands in his pocket. "Well. Here we are. The start of all this."

Henry followed hesitantly behind him, still leading Bendy by the hand. "What...what is this thing?"

"The ink machine. It makes ink."

"I, I can see that, but what do you need this much ink for anyway? Is this how you made Bendy?" Henry asked.

"And the others. But Bendy was the first," Joey said, stepped closer to the machine. He looked down at a few blown out candles and hummed, fumbling in his coat for a his lighter. He flicked it a few times, then sighed and tossed it back into his pocket. "Looks like I need a new one..."

"Good God, Joey...how does it even work?" Henry said, taking another cautious step forward.

"Trade secret, I'm afraid," Joey said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Can't have you off and running to my competitors now, can we?"

"Joey, you know I would never-"

Joey laughed and cut him off. "Yeah, you were always too good for that. You wouldn't rat me out. Even after everything."

"...why'd you bring me here?" Henry asked, letting go of Bendy's hand. The little inky demon hadn't moved much since they'd stepped into the room, mostly looking between Joey and Henry. Waiting. Watching. And always turning back to look up at the ink machine. "Joey...what is this about?"

"I've been doing a lot of thinking, Henry. Wondering how far I'd go with this studio, and what my next step was. People love this park, that much is true, but there's always more that could be done. I want to think bigger. Better. First, a television cartoon in every household! Then, a park that everyone could go to, even just once! Now...now, I wonder what my next step is. A cartoon Bendy in every home? Boys and girls clamoring for their own, lifelike Alice's and Boris's and Bendy's? There's a thought...but then what? What from there? When does it end? I don't give much thought to endings. Just the next, big dream. If I had it my way, cartoons would never end at all."

"You're not making much sense," Henry said. "Joey. Why me?"

"...you created Bendy. I can fool myself into thinking whatever I want, but you were the one who drew him. Who thought him up into this world. And despite what you see now before you, Bendy...isn't perfect." Joey turned away from the machine to face Henry. "I want your help. I want you to help me make the perfect Bendy."

"What's...what's wrong with this one?" Henry said, turning to look back at the toon, only for his eyes to widen in horror. Henry fell back to the ground, knocking over candles and sending hot wax spiraling over symbols and smearing the inky incantations. Bendy loomed over him, all long limbs and ink and jagged smiles. His voice caught in his throat, lodged in a half scream that threatened to burst at any moment. Bendy hissed, leaning over Henry again and tilting his head.

Joey pushed his hands into his pockets. "Easy, Bendy. Henry here hasn't agreed to help us just yet. We gotta get these things in writing first...right? You see Henry, Bendy here was missing a crucial ingredient that it takes to make these toons. I'm getting close to perfecting the recipe, but the first attempt didn't turn out so well. You can play around with ink and paper all you want, but that doesn't mean something will come to life. I even tried building a mechanical contraption to walk around and look like Bendy. But that's all it was. A look-a-like. I wanted the real thing. Something more than ink. But it isn't easy to create life from nothing. Well, this kind of life anyway. Normally, it just takes two people, and, well, you know the rest. But Bendy? Taking a thought and turning into something that could move, think, feel, react...I was so close with Bendy. So close. But he's not perfect."

Bendy stood above Henry still, showing no signs of flinching at Joey's words, or being phased by them at all. He just seemed oblivious. It was obvious he could hear him, but he just seemed numb. Used to it. Henry was torn between a feeling akin to sympathy. What kind of horrible existence was he living, where he was reminded every second that he wasn't perfect? Henry didn't have the luxury of such thoughts for long though.

"Normally, Bendy isn't like this. But when he's close to the ink machine, he shows his true colors. If I can get him in front of people, he knows what he's supposed to do. He's supposed to entertain! Make people smile! Make people laugh! But it doesn't last past dark. He's only missing one more thing. Henry, I need your help to find it. To help make Bendy whole, to make him perfect. Will you help me?"

How could he agree to something like that? How could he agree or disagree with anything while staring death in the face? He knew what Joey wanted him to say, and staring at Bendy looming over him instinctively made him want to agree, just to turn around and run away from this place. If he refused, would Joey send Bendy after him? Would Bendy's former friendliness turn to hostility? Would Joey turn his own creation, once a figment of his imagination, against him?

He was just about to open his mouth and say no, and just live with the consequences, try to run, accept the fact that he had gotten in too deep, but Joey was a smart man. He was always the man with the plan, and he always had cards up his sleeve.

"Your daughter...you'll take her to the park eventually, won't you?"

Henry froze. His refusal died on his tongue.

Joey smiled and turned to Bendy. "I think she'd like Bendy. Don't you?"

So. It was an act from the beginning. The sinking realization that Henry had been tricked, been fooled, pooled in his stomach and swirled around in a nauseating mix. The lingering remnants of his old friend had been nothing but wishful thinking, and the illusions of a man who was, is, and always will be, a conman to his core.

Joey must have known he'd won before Henry turned to look at him again, because he was outstretching his hand already for Henry to stand.

"What do you say? Do we have a deal? To help Bendy become whole?"

What choice did Henry have? Even if he was about to sign his death warrant, Joey had him backed into a corner. He had underestimated the lengths Joey would go to. Henry's fate was sealed the second he stepped foot into this park, into this never-ending loop of false smiles and nightmares. He reached for Joey's hand, when a loud, metallic groan cut him off. Joey spun around as one of the chains supporting the ink machine snapped, sending the back corner sinking into the rotten wood stained and soaked with ink. It sputtered, splashing ink in random directions, and Bendy hissed and shielded his eyes at bolts and metal flung off from a loose panel of the machine, before the whole thing groaned and lurched to a halt, the ink flickering down to a small drip.

"What in the-" Joey started, but Allison was too quick for him. She launched out of her hiding place in the chaos, grabbed Henry's hand, and pulled him to his feet before he could even open his mouth.

"RUN!" she shouted to him, and Joey cried out in frustration as the two took off down the dark hall.

"BENDY! AFTER THEM!" he shouted. "Don't let them get away!"

The ink demon, as obedient as ever, turned and chased them down the hall.

Joey turned to the ink machine, scowling at the mess that would take at least two days to fix. He roared and kicked over more of the candles, sending them tumbling down the inky river below.

It looked like Joey was going to have to make a call...he stalked over to the phone mounted to the corner of the room and dialed in the number. He had it memorized by now. It rang just a few times before being answered by an annoyingly cheerful voice.

"Hellooo, this is Sigmund Sinclair of Gent speaking, and who might this be?"

"Sinclair. It's me."

"Ahhhh, Joey Drew! Been a while since I've heard from you~" Joey heard the creaking of a chair as the person on the other end adjusted, moving forward and closer to the phone. Joey could already picture that smug grin on his face as he twirled the phone cord in his fingers.

"I need your help. Machine's broke. Can you send one of your guys down to fix it?"

"Ohhh, for you Joey? For my precious ink machine?" Sinclair smiled, already writing down a note to his secretary to cancel his meetings for the next few days. "I'll come down and visit myself."

* * *

**I LIIIIIVE!**

**Thank you guys so so much for your patience! Thank you thank you! Part of the reason this chapter took so long is because I went back and forth quite a few times on whether or not I wanted to include Sinclair or not. I really like the creativity that having an original character brings to a story, but I know that sometimes it isn't done effectively. Please please please let me know if you have any suggestions, critiques, or other opinions on this original character that I'm adding into the story. Even if it's minor, I'd love to hear it so that I can work to improve my writing and this story as a whole.**

**I hope you like this chapter and I hope you're excited for what's going to come next! I still haven't read the new books yet, so no spoilers please! Thank you!**


	13. Chapter 13: Too Late to Leave

**Chapter 13: Too Late to Leave**

* * *

"Henry, what the _hell_ were you thinking?!"

Henry, still trying to catch his breath, let Allison's furious musing go up and over his head. He waved her off absentmindedly, using the other hand to lean against the wall. He was getting old. His lungs and limbs weren't nearly what they used to be.

"You were just going to do what he said? Sign away your life, your work, your pen, God knows what else to him?! Over probably empty threats?"

"He threatened my daughter," Henry said.

"Did he? Or did he scare you into thinking he did?" Allison snapped back.

"It's my daughter! Empty threats or not, it still sounded like a threat to me! What else was I supposed to do?!" Henry argued.

"_Fight!_ For once in your life, take accountability for this place and the role you've had in it," she said. "Regardless of what you've been telling yourself Henry, this place wouldn't exist without you."

Henry leaned back against the wall and slumped. Cold, despite it being wooden, but Allison assured him that racing to the studio in broad daylight was their best chance of hiding from Bendy. His shoulders sagged with the weight his feet refused to keep holding up anymore.

Allison paused and looked away. Maybe she'd gone too far. It may be partially his fault for creating Bendy, but not the madness that followed. That was all Joey. "...I'm sorry," Allison said. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just sick of Joey using loved ones against each other. That's how he's played this game. It's how he keeps winning at it. Those he can't win over with promises of money and fame, he tempts with fear and pity. I hate it. I hate that the people we love are used against us. Joey shouldn't have that right, but he does."

"He's always known how to get what he wants," Henry replied. "That's just who he is. It used to be charisma. But now it's power. Now it's fear. He's not the man I used to know."

"Did you come back to find him?" Allison asked.

"I...called an old friend. I could tell something was wrong. I couldn't sleep. I rarely can. But I wanted to see this place for myself. It felt like I had to. I had to line the pieces up, get some answers for myself if I had any hope of moving on from this place. Instead of moving on, it dragged me back in," Henry said.

"Well...now you know," she said. "I've found a lot more than I bargained for myself after I talked with you. Way more. I can't go back though. Not when I've finally found my friend."

"You did?" Henry asked.

Allison nodded wearily. "We'll have to go get him after dark though. Hopefully Bendy will have given up and won't be prowling around the tunnels by then..."

"So we'll grab him and get out of here?" Henry asked.

Allison bit her bottom lip. "It's...not that simple."

And so she told him. Everything. She stopped in her stories only to hush them both when they heard murky footsteps or the dripping of ink, just long enough to make sure they were safe, they were alone in the silence, and then she started up her story again. By the end of it, Henry looked like he'd aged several years. His eyes were wide but plagued with exhaustion, staring at something she couldn't see.

"So he's been using people and that ink machine to make these creations..." Henry mused. "That...sounds impossible, but..."

"I don't think it is," Allison said. "From what I've been able to gather, characters without speaking roles can be filled by most any position. Boris can be any old maintenance crew or worker. It's probably the same for the butcher gang members, though I haven't seen too many of them wandering around honestly, certainly not after dark. I think a draw-back for Boris though is that even though he can be anyone, I get the feeling they don't last long for one reason or another. So Joey always has people on hand, unwillingly ready to step in to fill the last Boris's shoes. Alice, she's got a speaking role. So I think Joey used the last voice actress for Alice before I came along. Susie Campbell. The timing of it makes sense. She went missing just a bit before Alice appeared. I don't think she's been replaced since then, but I can't be sure. I think the effects of being like that long-term are taking their toll though...she seems to have fully lost her mind when I saw her."

"And Bendy?" Henry asked. "Who's Bendy?"

"That's what I can't figure out," Allison admitted. "He seems the least human out of all of them. And I know that he was Joey's first creation. He becomes the most monstrous after dark, but the most innocent during the day. I don't know if Bendy needed a human at all. Maybe he's something else."

"It wouldn't make sense for the others then, for them to work by a different logic," Henry said. "Even if Bendy didn't use a physical human body to exist in this world like the others, Joey must have given something up in exchange for him existing."

Allison ran a hand through her hair. "...you're taking this pretty well."

"Am I?" Henry let out a choked chuckle. "I don't feel like I am."

Allison stood up and offered Henry her hand. "The park closes in a few hours. I can't leave, since I need to get my friend. But I'm starving. Let's get some park food before it closes."

"Is that safe?" Henry asked.

"Safer than other places in the park," Allison said. "Joey won't do anything drastic while there are people around. He has his reputation to uphold. And Bendy won't transform into his monstrous form either with people around. He'll entertain them. So even if he sees you, we can still probably get away."

The two walked out to the park, Henry noticeably tensing when a kid ran by in a Bendy mask. Allison couldn't blame him, she'd nearly jumped out of her skin herself. She was sure they probably looked like a mess between the two of them, covered in ink and dirt, they probably were close to looking like part of the attractions themselves. Allison took her blazer off and wiped her face, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Henry did the same with his jacket, then tied it around his waist and rolled up his sleeves.

"Your wife know you came here?" Allison asked.

"She's smart. Won't take her long to figure it out," he replied.

"Then you better make sure you're back home tonight. You don't want her coming here looking for you."

Henry nodded absentmindedly, staring up at a cartoon displayed on the screens hanging around the park. He'd helped with that one. He remembered drawing those original sketches. Feels like forever ago. Bendy danced across the screen blinking and smiling without a care in the world. _That_ was his Bendy.

"How long has he been like that?" Henry asked. "Monstrous, I mean."

"As long as I've worked here. Every night, that's how he seems to be. Back at the ink machine, that's the first time I've seen him in his monster form during the daytime, even if it was in the dark abyss." Allison looked away. "If we ever worked passed dark and saw him, we were just instructed to smile as wide as we can and wait for him to move on. Even looking as demonic as he does, I guess something inside of him still has an innate urge to make others smile and be happy. Once he feels like he's done that, he moves on."

"Joey really created a monster..." Henry muttered. "Something straight out of a book or movie or-"

"Cartoon?" Allison finished.

"I just don't understand how it's possible. It shouldn't be possible. It isn't naturally, and clearly, that's why these bad things are happening. Joey has disrupted some sort of natural order, because there's nothing natural about Bendy, Alice, or Boris. This whole park is one unnatural disaster just waiting to happen," he added.

"I had a plan. Originally. To take some of my tapes and try to trigger a transformation in Alice Angel during the day. If people could see how monstrous everything becomes after dark, they'd stop coming. I thought I might be able to hit Joey where it hurts, and get this place out of business from a financial perspective. I'm not sure if that will work anymore though. Joey's too smart. This whole place needs to be destroyed. And I think the key to that is the ink machine."

"The ink machine," Henry mused. "Who built it?"

"Not sure. Tom said something about helping with it, but I think most of the parts and work were completed by Gent. At least, that's the impression that I get. This whole thing started taking off after Joey's partnership with them anyway," Allison said.

"So maybe we need to look past the park. Maybe we need to set our sights onto something bigger," Henry said.

"You think Gent might have more than just an investment in this place?" she asked.

"I'm thinking that as deluded as Joey's become, he wouldn't be able to create these things without someone else's expertise. Joey's a practical businessman with big dreams and ideas, not an occult fanatic who believed in demons and devils. At least, not that I was aware of. But if someone came up to Joey in his darkest hour, promised him a way to make more money than anyone thought possible by bringing his beloved Bendy to life..."

"Then Joey wouldn't question it," Allison finished. She looked up at Henry and nodded. "Henry...you might be on to something here."

"I'll see what I can dig up, maybe head over and dig up some records at the library about Gent," he said.

"You can do that?"

Henry nodded. "Businesses in this city are legally required to keep at least part of their transaction and history stored in a public place. The library doesn't close until late tonight, so I can check it out."

"You're sure you don't just want to go home?" Allison asked. "You have a family to look after."

Henry ran a hand through his hair. "...I know. But I think you're right, Allison. My family is starting to look like more than just my wife and daughter. I may not have purposefully created Bendy like he is now. But I need to take some responsibility."

"Just be careful, Henry," Allison said. "We don't really know what Joey is capable of, or how far his influence reaches."

Henry smiled. "You take care of yourself Allison. You have my number if you need me."

Allison watched as Henry walked out of the park, keeping his hands in his pockets and his head low. She waited until he was completely gone from sight, then grabbed some food and headed back down into the tunnels below the park.

* * *

It took every ounce of strength Norman had to not run from the park. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, far too hot and sweaty underneath the polyester, and tried to keep his wits about him as he pushed through the crowds of people, film reels and equipment under his arm. He didn't want to come back to this place, but he couldn't leave without his equipment. He'd left for a bit, long enough to gather his bearings and make sure that it was broad daylight, as well as making sure that Joey would be preoccupied with cleaning up the mess of the previous night. He just didn't know how much Joey knew.

There was no way that Joey could trace Norman's involvement back to that incident. There was no way Joey could know that Norman had plotted against him. But every security guard Norman passed made him tense, every smiling face was a jeer that knew too much, so Norman had gathered the things from his office, his equipment, into his camera bag and an old cardboard box and was trying to make his way back to the parking lot. All he needed to do was get to his car, and he could get far away from this park and the evil that lurked here.

If he ran through the park, if he pushed people aside, he'd only draw more suspicion to himself. And that couldn't happen. The longer Joey didn't know he was involved, the better. That gave him more time to get out of town, get away from Joey's wide spread influence. After all, who hadn't heard of the wonderful Joey Drew Studios? He was a national icon, and there were rumors of Joey opening up a second park somewhere else across the country. No. Norman needed just a bit more time, just a bit of time to get his things and get out. Maybe move somewhere else, to Mexico or Canada, somewhere Joey couldn't find him. Change his name or something. Then, by the time Joey put together that Norman was involved, he'd be out of dodge.

Was he being too paranoid? Maybe. Maybe this was all ridiculous. Maybe Joey didn't care about a little ole projectionist like him. But the possibility that Joey did care was far too terrifying to risk sticking around.

Norman could almost see the parking lot, he could barely make out the peaks of the gates just beyond the swell of people all rushing to the gift shops before the park closed for the night. The Bendy toys always sold out the fastest, followed by Boris, and lastly, Alice Angel. T-Shirt and stuffed toys and yo-yos and treats all filled bags as cash and coins were thrust into cashier's faces, but Norman pushed passed it all. Just a little further. He headed to the swinging exit gate, where most security guards had left their posts now that people weren't trying to enter the park rather than leave it. As he did, he bumped shoulders with someone and stumbled, his camera bag sprawling to the floor in front of him, projection equipment tumbling out and landing on the ground with a sickening crunch and crack.

Norman yelped and immediately bent down to start scooping up the pieces.

"Oh! Sorry about that. Please, let me help."

"It's fine," Norman stuttered, keeping his eyes down. The gate was so close, he thought about just leaving the remains of the broken projection equipment behind, but he still refused to let Joey have those remains. No. This design was his and his alone. Once he was gone, Joey would have to start from scratch or give up entirely. It was his last gift to Allison, to try to stick it to Joey one last time, so he scooped up the lens and reels and even broken glass back into his bag.

He reached out for the one of the film reels, only to have it snatched up in front of him. Norman looked up to see a man in a suit he didn't recognize, middle-aged, maybe a few years older than him with blonde hair slicked back out of his face, and a well-trimmed goatee. The man smiled, looking down at the reel. "A film reel? So, you must be from the studio then? I don't remember them selling anything like THIS in the gift shop."

Norman lunged for the reel to pry it out of the man's hands, but he held it back and raised an eyebrow. Norman felt the blood drain from his face when he saw the pinned name-tag on the man's suit.

Sigmund Sinclair, CEO of GENT.

Norman sputtered, his hand shaking in front of him. He had to stay calm, he had to play it off and stay cool. He could feel the man's eyes scanning him up and down, eyeing the sweat dripping down Norman's forehead and the way his whole body was trembling and shaking.

Surprisingly though, the man handed Norman back the reel and stuck his hands in his pockets. "So. Are you the projectionist then? You're...Norman Polk, right?"

Norman tried not to grab for the reel too desperately, shoving it back into his bag and snapping it shut. "Yes. Yessir. That's me. Can...can I help you with anything? I'm, ah, I'm heading out y'see. I've got some work to do at home."

"Well, now that you mention it, I don't suppose you'd mind showing me to the studio, would you?" Sinclair smiled and put his hand on Norman's shoulder. "After all, such an important man like you must work there! I have a meeting with Joey you see, more business investments to look over and review. I'm sure you've heard of Gent?"

Before Norman knew it, the man was walking through the park, Norman in tow. If Norman were to run now, he might still make it to the gate, but not without drawing a lot of attention. If he ran now and made a scene, would there be men waiting for him back home, just ready to haul him back to the studio? Or worse? No, Norman couldn't run now, no matter how much he wanted to, he just needed to keep moving forward, wait for an opportunity to slip away, or show Sinclair the studio and then get out as quickly as he could.

"Y-Yessir, I've heard of Gent," Norman said. "Y-Yer mister Joey's biggest investor. Your name's on practically everything 'round here."

Sinclair chuckled. "Well, it's more than just an investment. See, Joey and I are partners. Gent helps manufacturer a lot of the equipment I'm sure you've seen used around here. Some of the rides use Gent equipment, advertisements, shops, why, even the ink machine was built using Gent technology and blueprints!"

Norman paled. He felt his feet slow, but Sinclair's grip was firm.

Why did Sinclair need someone to show him to the studio if he'd been here before?

Norman's heart was beating so wildly and loudly, he couldn't hear what Sinclair was saying anymore. His hands almost slipped from clutching the bag close to his chest, sending the contents sprawling again, but he managed to tighten his grip. He felt his voice catch in his throat, a lump he couldn't swallow, and Sinclair stopped, snapping in Norman's face.

"Mister Polk? Are you alright? I asked you a question, Mister Polk."

"W-w-what did you ask me?" Norman squeaked.

Sinclair smiled. "I asked what work you had to do at home, Mister Polk. That reel you had tumbling out of your bag was one of the original Dancing Devil tapes. It only works on the projection equipment in the office, which you also have in your bag. Now I know Joey prides himself on dedicated and hard-working employees, but surely any work you had to do at home could be completed much easier in the studio?"

Norman tried to say something, but was afraid that if he said another word he'd start bumbling like an idiot, crying in front of all of these people and begging for his life. Sinclair's grip tightened again.

"Now now, let's not look so sad. We're in a theme park! You wouldn't want to draw too much attention to yourself. Why don't we go inside and have a chat with Joey? I'm sure he'll be able to make you feel better. After all, Mister Polk, you look like you're as pale as a ghost," Sinclair chuckled.

Sure enough, there they were in front of the studio. His journey toward the gate felt like miles, but suddenly, here they were, back outside the building in what felt like a matter of minutes. Norman felt something numb and cold creep its way up toward his heart as his hope of escaping started to dim and fade completely. The last few lingering rays of sunlight started to dip below the treeline as the intercoms chipperly announced closing time in a few minutes, as Norman was led inside the studio and up away from his only chance of freedom.

* * *

**Thanks for your patience with this chapter! It's a bit shorter and is mostly dialogue heavy, but I wanted to set some things up and get back into the swing of writing for the story again. Let me know if you have any more suggestions or questions! Thanks to YoursTheAuthor for asking some great questions and leading me to clarify a few points from the last chapter, as well as Zephyr for the kind reviews! Have a great day everyone, and thank you again for reading! Things should (hopefully) be settling down for me pretty soon since I won't be traveling as much for the rest of the year. See you all next chapter!**


	14. Chapter 14: Everything is Fine

**Chapter 14: Everything is Fine**

Allison didn't know she could get any more afraid. But the fear she felt staring at the broken remains of the door that Tom once hid behind struck a chill into her very bones. The door, previously secured with wooden planks and other obstacles, was swinging and hanging free from its hinges. The room inside was a veritable mess of ink and debris, papers and cleaning supplies splattered about the floor. But Tom was no where to be seen.

She'd only left him for a minute. How could he have escaped in just a few short minutes?!

She tried to calm down, tried to quell the rising panic in her chest at the realization that, once again, she'd lost the one person she'd been so desperately searching for. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to step into the now empty room. Maybe there were some clues left behind, something that could show her where he could have gone.

It took her a second to move past the mess and examine the pieces left behind. Inky footprints, hand prints on the wall, desperate attempts to claw at the door. Tom really couldn't resist the temptation of the park during the day. Every fiber of his being had been screaming for him to get out and find the people. She hoped he hadn't gone crazy. What a cursed lifestyle. How was she going to get him out of this mess?

She shook her head and continued.

His tools were here. She recognized the worn out handles and rickety toolbox. If he left them behind, then he probably wasn't in his right mind still when he left. It was almost dark, hopefully he'd come to his sense before he made it out and about to the people. If they saw a Boris missing an arm, it wouldn't be long before Joey scrambled to fix the situation. Allison swallowed the urge to go tearing down the hall, looking for him, but she knew that he had a head start. The park was huge. He could be anywhere, and trying to find him now wouldn't help much. Maybe he'd left her some clue though, some part of his mind that knew she'd come looking. She could only hope.

Moving on, she came across a few cleaning supplies pushed aside and partially open in the back. A canister of bleach had knocked over in the corner, promptly erasing any ink that had gotten too close. Was that why Tom had scrambled to get out of the room so quickly? Could the bleach hurt him now that he was made of ink? Maybe. She stepped out of the room, but then paused when she looked at the door. She'd noticed the dents before. She'd assumed they had been from the inside, Tom trying to get out in his delusion. But these marks...

Was something trying to get _in?_

Allison swallowed, and examined the door more closely. Two inky hand prints, pushing the door inward. Two hands meant it wasn't Tom. Something big and something strong had tried to force the door open. The question is, did they succeed? And if so, where was Tom now?

She pulled back and her hands tightened into fists. Those hand prints were symmetrical. Which meant they _weren't_ Bendy's, at least in his monstrous form. He had one larger, gloved hand and one smaller hand in that form. Even knowing that though, Allison wasn't sure who could be responsible. For all she knew, it could be one of the butcher gang, or a maintenance guy who'd been working on pipes and gotten dirty. It could be anything.

Right when Allison was about to give up, she stepped back and something crinkled beneath her foot. She bent down and picked up a small piece of paper, a receipt to Heavenly Toys. It was one of the largest buildings in the park, where all of the toys were made and then transported to other various gift shops dotted about the park. This main building had a gift shop, but Allison had never visited it. She hadn't needed to. It was on the opposite side of the park from the studio, midway between the entrance and Alice's stage. The haunted house was also over that way, which Allison had been to a few times. Could this be where Tom went?

Allison pocketed the receipt and headed out of the dark tunnels, figuring she could make it to Heavenly Toys right as they were locking up for the night. If she were lucky, she might be able to slip inside and hide before anyone noticed, then explore the place after dark.

* * *

Security swept through the high-vaulted ceiling with a careful flashlight. Joey's rules were stern: no one was allowed in the park after dark. Even workers were encouraged to leave behind minor closing duties once it got dark out. New recruits praised Joey's generosity, wondering how lucky they were to have an employer who cared so much about them that he made sure they got home so early. Others had been there longer. Others had picked up overtime, or got charged with cleanup shifts in the morning. Others knew better.

Still, walking the halls of Heavenly Toys before they headed home for the night was one daily routine that wasn't hard to complete. They'd only ever caught two people stowing away past dark before. One was a little girl who'd fallen asleep among Boris plushes, another was a boy who'd tried to hide in the bathrooms on a dare. Both were sent home to relieved parents.

The guard swept his light among the row of button-eyed dolls and stuffed animals, including a life-size selection of the main trio. There were kazoos and mini-drums, yo-yos and balloons, all lined with familiar logos, ready to be taken home for the night. The Bendy's were almost always sold out, but today, a few remained, likely due to the fact that the dancing demon had been missing for most of the day. A few disgruntled parents had asked for their money back, but the terms and conditions they had so aptly signed without reading dismissed their claims for refunds: no characters sightings guaranteed upon park entry, regardless of the fact that that's why everyone came to the park.

One guard thought he saw movement in the corner, by the Allison plush. One of those automated ones that spoke when you pushed the button. Battery powered, of course, and batteries not included. He swept his flashlight over the heaps of stuffed dolls, but couldn't see anything. His coworker called out for him to hurry up, and a few moments later, all the lights were turned off and the huge emporium was shut down for the night, the guards returning home to their families after another long day's work.

Once she was sure they'd left, Allison stepped out from her hiding place behind the shelves, under the life-sized Alice. It smelled of fresh cotton and polyester. She was glad to be away from it. The lights were all out, and Allison had, unfortunately, forgotten her flashlight. She fumbled around in the dark for a moment before finding a singular light switch among the hallway. Thankfully, it only illuminated the front desk, and she used the scarce light to duck into the employees only section, where she'd be shielded from windows. Even then, she was hesitant to turn on too many lights. Thankfully, there was a toy flashlight the gift shop sold meant to look like Bendy's gloved hand. Cheesy, but she was grateful. Batteries not included on most of the toys of course, but they always had a display one lit up. She snatched it and headed further into the studio. The back was a simple hallway with a few offices, but then she headed downstairs into the main factory. Here, conveyor belts lined the walls and floors in complicated patterns, weaving in and out of each other in a jigsaw. She worked her way around unpainted or dyed fabric, buttons laying in heaps and piles, and doll heads waiting for their button eyes and noises. Standing proudly in the middle of the large room was a sign that read "Heavenly Toys."

No wonder Allison had never stopped by. This place was probably always as busy as a city or dead as a ghost town. She'd seen the workers before, tired men and women all sitting around, enjoying the sunlight and a snack or two. A lot of older people, spent through their retirement and eager for a job that didn't require too much manual labor. It wasn't easy, working on a line doing the same thing over and over, but it was better than fixing machine parts or navigating the dark tunnels, she'd give them that. Though, now that she thought about it, she wouldn't doubt that those dark tunnels led back to here in one way, shape, or form. Those tunnels beneath the park led just about everywhere, and were as big and twisted as the park itself.

Allison heard a small crash from the end of a line, and spun around. A stack of boxes had fallen over. Probably just loose movement, maybe she'd even caused it herself by coming in, but the noise was startling at the very least. She didn't have any weapons on her. She should probably change that. She'd need some sort of protection. She looked around for a fire axe, but only extinguishers lined the walls. Those wouldn't do. She kept looking, until eventually she found a rather large box cutter. She pried open the plastic safety measure and found a large, metal pole. A few rolls of duck-tape, and she had herself a spear.

Well...more like a knife on a stick. And no weapon did well against Bendy. But it was something, and it made her feel a bit more protected at least.

Content with her makeshift weapon, she headed deeper into the studio, hoping for some sort of sign that Tom had come this way. So far, she hadn't found anything. Around the corner, she made her way into a another large factory room. This one looked more like a repair room for some of the larger toys and items that were meant more as attractions, such as the pop-up cardboard ghosts from the haunted house. She didn't know they were fixed here, but it made sense. Joey wanted everything for the park produced and made in-house, which really wasn't practical from a business standpoint, but with Gent supplying the funds, materials, and agreeing to Joey's at-times ridiculous terms, here is where it happened.

Movement darted to her left, and this time Allison knew it wasn't her imagination. She spun around, but whatever it was had ducked under the conveyor lines and out of sight. She couldn't see it anymore. But she knew it was there.

She took a step backwards, feet crunching under a loose piece of cardboard and plastic. More movement. This time, her flashlight was faster, and she caught a glimpse of limbs as a shorter figure ducked away again. Or did they need to duck at all? No, they looked smaller. Her grip on her knife tightened as she slowly approached the figure hunkered down over the belt. She swept her light over it.

A mutilated member of the butcher gang spun around, screaming at her and the flashlight. It darted out and swung wildly, grabbing a handful of Allison's hair and yanking her down to the ground. She shouted as the creature crawled over her, swinging and clawing like an animal. She only caught glimpses of it through the flailing light, missing eyes and mouths in all the wrong places, but teeth still gnashed in front of her face.

She screamed and swung out with her knife, the creature howling as she gashed its arm. The beast scurried away from the knife, and Allison used the chance to quickly rise back to her feet and swing again. It ducked under the tables and scurried off, screeching toward a back room and disappearing behind a door and a wall of boxes. Adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Allison had to take a moment to remind herself not to chase after it and finish it off. A member of the butcher gang? She'd never seen them after dark before. She'd seen them around the park, but mostly only during the parade. They weren't exactly popular characters, mostly a side group of antagonists that popped up for shows or special occasions. She'd honestly wondered if these odd characters might not have followed the same twisted routines as the others, that maybe Joey had used animatronics or actors. It appeared that wasn't the case.

She just hoped the others weren't anywhere nearby. She needed to hurry up and get out of here just in case. All the same, she pushed a work desk in front of the door that little creature had ran into, just in case it decided to try and come back. It would do little to stop it, but it might buy her some time. Satisfied, she turned toward the office of the factory room. They usually had a staircase that led to a main overseeing walkway, and she might be able to find the larger light switch up there instead of this flimsy flashlight. She turned the light toward the office door, and saw a shadow walk in front of the door from the staircase.

Immediately, she grabbed her knife and rushed toward the creature, who turned to her to do the same. She held up her flashlight to get a better look, ready to attack and defend herself, ready to-

"TOM!" she said, staring in shock at the just as startled figure, who was lifting an axe in his own defense. Both stared at each other for a moment, Tom wide-eyed in fear, before dropping the axe and scooting back in horror. Allison dropped her own knife and took a huge breath, bringing her hand to her chest. "Thank God...you're here...what were you doing sneaking up on me like that?!"

Tom shook his head furiously, pointing to a picture of Alice.

"You thought I was her? So she's alive?" Allison asked.

Tom nodded. She caught the twitch in his frame as he stifled chills running down his back.

"Do you know how you got here?" she asked.

He shook his head no, and made a motion like he was cowering for a moment, then turned back to her.

"So...you just remember hiding before now?"

A nod.

"Yeah, I figured that part out," she said softly. "That...during the day, you revert back to something else. Don't you? Something you can't control. You're only yourself when it gets dark out."

Another nod. This one slower. He gestured to his missing arm.

"Yeah. Joey can't have a broken toy," she muttered. "But it's only a matter of time before you're found out. We have to get you out of here," she said, and grabbed his one free arm and started pulling him along, back toward the exit. Tom pressed his feet into the ground, trying to wrestle free, but her grip was firm, desperate, and Tom was powerless to offer a single word of protest.

Finally, he shook his hand free and grabbed her shoulder to stop her. He shook his head back and forth, pointing to himself, then shaking his head again.

"What? What do you mean?" she asked. "Can't you just...ugh!" She threw her hands up in the air and crossed the room. He watched her with a slightly tilted head as she rummaged around supplies, finally emerging with black ink and a paintbrush. She handed them to him and crossed her arms. "Write it down. On the floor, on the wall, whatever. Something. I need to be able to talk to you, more than just a head shake."

He narrowed his eyes, but she just raised an eyebrow. Finally, his shoulders shook slightly, and his silent mouth opened. She recognized the gesture from the cartoons. He was laughing. Before he made a move to start writing, he wrapped his only free arm around her tightly.

He was...cold. Colder than humans should be, but warmer than ink or machinery. All wrong at the same time, and his skin left blotchy ink stains on her clothes. But she wrapped her arms around him all the same, holding on tightly, even welcoming the smell of ink if it meant she could hold him just for a moment.

He wanted nothing more than to just tell her everything, but he knew something she didn't. He knew they were running out of time. He pulled away from her and walked over to one of the walls, ripping down a poster and starting to paint on the blank wall. It was hard to do with one hand, especially when he was left-handed, but he made it work, and sloppily drew out a single phrase.

**I can't leave.**

"Why?" Allison asked, almost before he finished painting the last word. He started on the next sentence as quickly as he could.

**Not sure. I can't go outside the park. Bad things start to happen.**

He wanted to go more in detail, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to find the words even if he could speak. He tried it, once. Leaving the park. Getting away. But the second he tried to cross the threshold, his whole body revolted. The ink itself seemed to pull away from the limits outside of the park, stretching and twisting, turning back to regular ink and losing form around the edges. His whole mind started swimming too, a ringing in his ears that drowned out all other voices until the only voice left was panic.

**I think I'll die if I leave.**

He glanced over at her, and immediately his eyes widened.

Was she...crying?

Allison bit the bottom of her lip as tears bubbled out over her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. Her hands gripped at the edges of her shirt, a weak protest as she tried to keep from crying like a baby, like a child, she had to pull herself together, had to stop this pitiful display, but she couldn't help it.

"So it...it's all...I can't..." She sunk to her knees and buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

Tom dropped the brush and hurried over to her frantically, trying to figure out if he should pat her shoulder, hug her, get her something to dry her eyes, something, but he didn't know what to do. He'd never seen her cry like this before, he wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her cry at all actually, and to see it now was jarring and wrong, and he somehow felt like he was the cause of all of it. And that...that was the worst. Feeling like it was his fault that she was here, covered in ink and dirt, sitting in the middle of an empty warehouse and sobbing.

"How am I supposed to save you?" she asked, looking up at him.

He offered her a weak smile, and picked up the brush again.

**You can't.**

She was quiet. That scared him. What would she say? He wanted her to leave and get out of here, but the other part of him was so glad to see her, he hated the thought of her giving up and never seeing him again. But what if she stayed in this awful place, kept working her during the day to see him at night? No. It would only be a matter of time before Joey used her. Turned her into something like him. He couldn't let that happen, no matter what.

He'd have to tell her once and for all to leave him behind. He could be content with that. He could live in this eternal place until his died or faded away, knowing that she was somewhere safe. She could find a better job. Find a better man. Find a better happiness than the false one they'd cooked up in this park. And that hope would keep him going until he couldn't anymore, until he was replaced. He moved to write at least some of this on the wall, finally finding the right words to tell her how he felt, but before he could, Allison dunked her hand into the bucket of ink and smeared her hands across his last message with a shout. She smeared the ink back and forth, covering up the message until no part of it remained. She turned to him, up to her elbows in ink now, and tried to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"I _will._"

And despite everything screaming voice of protest, he believed her.

"Ohhh Boriiiiis~ Where are youuuuu?"

Tom went rigid, his eyes wide with fear. Allison picked up her knife instantly.

"Is that...?"

He nodded, and grabbed his axe.

"So, she's still alive?" Allison said. "I'd hoped Bendy had taken care of her. Looks like I'll have to finish the job." She turned to Tom. "You ready to fight?"

His grip tightened. That angel terrified him. He could only remember bits and pieces of being dragged to this place during his daytime haze, but he had awoken in this toy factory to her face jeering down at him. This place was an operation room for mechanical pieces and engineering, and Alice had turned it into her personal playground. Allison didn't know this yet. He hadn't had the chance to tell her about the basement. But there wasn't time for that. Right now, she was getting closer, and it was too late to run. Judging by the look in Allison's eyes, Tom didn't think she'd try to run anyway. He nodded to her, and she took a fighting stance.

"Let's kill this bitch once and for all."

* * *

**My actual notes for this chapter.**

**"Chapter 14: Everything is Fine**

**(Everything is not fine)"**

**...**

**5,000 views! T.T You guys are awesome! I'm so grateful for all of the support for this fic! Thanks for all of your support, suggestions, praise, and reviews. I get a huge smile every time I see that I have a new review on my story. Seriously, thank you all so much!**

**P.S. Does that language feel too strong at the end? Does it clash with Allison's character? Gah, I'm second-guessing myself. Thoughts are appreciated, thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15: End the Angel

**Chapter 15: End the Angel**

Alice stepped into the room with a hum. She knew that Boris had gone this way. She was more than a little displeased that he had managed to so easily escape that little cage she'd locked him in before. But she couldn't complain too much. The chase was always far more fun this way. To run and hide, to gracefully glide through the halls, knowing there was no where he could go, made her feel alive. Powerful. Like an angel of God, sent down to smite the unworthy. But he should be grateful. She was going to help him, and fix herself all in one fell swoop. He shouldn't just be grateful, he should be _honored_. To serve a real angel like herself? Was there any greater joy in life?

After all, Sammy was more than willing to serve and honor her, and she'd seen the joy on his face firsthand when she'd bestowed him with her 'gift.'

Now. Where was he?

Alice entered one of the larger workrooms, one of the many rooms where she'd picked up tools and parts for her projects. Oh those daytime workers, so graciously leaving her toys to play with, things to work on and improve. It was like they knew she needed some way to alleviate her boredom during the evenings. And she didn't sleep. Couldn't sleep, really. It was...odd, when she tried. Like someone else was doing the dreaming. But if she couldn't get her beauty sleep, she needed something other way to maintain her elegance and grandeur during the day. This inky body was a gift, of course, but it wasn't perfect. Almost perfect. Almost an angel. But the ink wouldn't stick. So she needed to borrow some parts from others.

She knew they wouldn't mind, of course. They were just lowly little worms. _She_ was the angel. And she wasn't perfect yet, but that wasn't her fault, it wasn't, she was meant to be Alice, this was what she was supposed to do, so if she wasn't perfect yet she just had to work a little harder. Keep working Susie, keep climbing your way to the top, keep pushing and fighting and clawing until you're the perfect little angel...

Alice headed up the staircase from the office, heading to one of the many overhangs that looked over the warehouse floors. It would be much easier to see her little Boris from up there, and she could turn on the lights up there too. Yes, he had to be in one of these two large rooms, and these rafters looked out over it all. Her heels clicked along the floor until she reached the top, flicking on the lights and raising the tone of her hums to match the buzzing up above.

"Where are youuuu?"

Down below, Tom and Allison pressed themselves under one of the conveyor belts, shrinking back into the shadows. They exchanged a look and nodded.

Alice walked up above on the walkways, her eyes scanning every inch of the room down below. Allison waited a bit, then dove under the shadow of the walkway, right underneath Alice. She matched her, step for step, right beneath her shadow. When Alice stopped and paused to look around the room, Allison froze as well, waiting for her to move, to continue on. Just a bit further...she just had to make it a liiiittle further and she'd reach the turning point in the walkways. Right underneath the sprinkler system for the room.

Tom crawled as best as he could underneath the conveyor belts, hiding on the other side of boxes and cardboard, listening for the sound of her heels and freezing when they paused. He was almost to the wall. Almost there. Just a bit further.

"There you are!" Alice called out with a giggle. "My Boris! You stay right there so I can-"

"Tom, NOW!" Allison shouted, thrusting her knife up through the walkways and between Alice's feet. Alice shrieked and jumped back, clanging into the safety railing.

"YOU!"

Tom launched himself toward the wall, pulling the bright red fire alarm. Wailing filled the room almost immediately, and the sprinklers fizzed as they hummed to kick on. Tom didn't wait a second longer, continuing his momentum and diving into the safety of the office and underneath the desk. He hated to leave Allison out there alone. But he had to wait. She'd made him promise to wait until the sprinklers stopped. Rain and ink didn't mix well.

Alice screamed as the water burst open above her, and one more thrust from Allison's knife sent her falling from the railing to the ground below. The sprinkles continued to rain down on them, plastering Allison's hair to her face. She cautiously stepped toward Alice. Had the fall killed her? Was the water finishing the job? She took another step forward, watched as ink started to run off of Alice's body.

Alice's arm shot out, grabbing Allison leg with a shriek and pulling her to the ground. The knife clattered out of Allison's hands as she fell back to the floor, the impact rattling her teeth. Alice's nails dug into Allison's leg, tearing through the fabric and digging into her skin. Allison screamed as ink stung her wound, and Alice crawled her way closer. Allison looked up in horror at the distorted angel's face, dripping with ink. The pristine white skin had melted away to black gaping wounds revealing teeth and bone all over her face. Even her hair was falling out around them, sucked away by the water.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" Alice screamed. "I JUST WANT TO BE BEAUTIFUL AGAIN!" She raised her free hand to swipe out at Allison, so Allison reached out to grab her wrist and keep her at bay. The other hand digging into her leg released and grabbed at Allison's other arm, pushing her into the ground and the water. Noise sounded to her right, and Allison looked over to see Tom swinging open the office door to head toward her.

"STAY BACK!" Allison shouted. "Don't you DARE, Tom!"

He froze, frame trembling in the doorway as rain continued to sprinkle down on them. He moved to take a step forward, then back, forcing himself forward and backward again and again as he watched them struggle on the ground.

Alice looked up at Tom, snarling, and Allison took the moment push Alice off of her, swinging around and slamming her into the ground. Alice screamed again, but this time, Allison had the upper hand.

"You...why are you doing this?! What the hell, what the hell are you?!" she shouted at her.

"I'm an angel..." Alice started cackling, black ooze leaking from her mouth and eyes. "I...I'm a beautiful angel...Joey said so...they'll love me forever if I stay beautiful...have to stay beautiful...I have to...or they'll just replace me again..."

Allison paused. "...Susie? Is that you?"

Alice stopped struggling. She stopped moving. Allison couldn't tell through her ink covered eyes whether she was looking at her or at the sky.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm...I'm so sorry..." her voice wavered and she took a sharp breath in. "So many voices...all the time...it's so _hard_ to hear my own anymore..."

"We can, we can try to save you," Allison said. "This isn't over. This doesn't have to be over yet, Susie."

"It's not fair," she whispered.

Allison sat back off of Susie, letting her lay on the ground while still staying close. Was there still a woman behind the monster? Was there anything of Susie left beyond this broken voice, scared and alone? Or was this all that was left of the woman she once was, a voice actress, strong and proud, so overjoyed to have such a leading role. Was Allison any different? If things had been different from the beginning, would it be Allison lying here in a puddle of water and ink instead of her?

"We can make Joey pay for this. We can find a way to fix this," Allison said.

"Fix...me?"

"I don't know how, but we can, we just have to-"

"There's no way to fix me," Susie said, her voice dropping to a low, even tone. It was calm. Deep. "I'm just a broken little toy. And Joey doesn't bother fixing broken toys. He just buys new ones." She turned her head toward Allison. "Don't let him catch you, Allison. He'll need a new angel now. I'm not going to be his angel any longer."

And then, nothing.

Silence filled the room. Ink and water ran off down drains in the floor, or stained cardboard and toys with water. Allison could feel the water wet her socks and clothes. The cold of it was starting to sink in as the sprinklers finally stopped. Susie, Alice, both of them were no more. Just a pile of unrecognizable mush and ink on the floor. Maybe a few remnants of clothes or a halo. But that was it. Alice was gone, and she'd taken Susie with her.

Allison was jarred when she felt Tom's hand on her shoulder, soft at first, but then firm. Urgent.

Right. They needed to get out. They needed to leave before the too much attention was drawn to the fire alarm. The fire department might show up, after all. Or worse. But Allison was having a hard time rising from the floor. She was having a hard time getting her limbs to listen to her at all. She just kept staring down at Alice's broken form, and the ink on her own hands. This ink was all that was left. How long would it take to wash it off? Would it still leave traces on her skin, deep in the crevices of her fingerprints, to small to see, but still there? Would she ever erase that pungent smell from them?

Another tug from Tom. This time insistent.

Yeah. She had to go. She couldn't stay. She forced herself slowly to her feet, every movement hard, but once she was on her feet, Tom was dragging her away to the office to hide. He pushed her underneath the work desk there, and crowded in himself a moment later.

Minutes later, the door to the work room burst open. Joey walked in, hair undone, still in his evening robe, scowling at the scene in front of him.

"What the HELL kind of a mess is this?!" he roared, several security guards behind him. "Who did this?!"

"I-I don't know sir," one of the guards stuttered. "Everything was just fine when we left for the night a few hours ago..."

"Does this look like 'just fine' to you?!" Joey scowled. He walked across the room, shoes squelching over the ink and water. When he saw the ink, he paused, and rushed over to the lump on the floor.

"W-what's wrong? Is there something over there?" the guard asked.

"Dammit...DAMMIT!" Joey roared. He slammed his fist into the work table, sending echoes of rattles throughout the large room. "Do we have any security footage in this room?"

"No sir, just in the main studio I'm afraid."

"Do you have any way of figuring out who did this? Do you have any idea how hard it was to make this damn thing?!" he asked, gesturing to Alice's remains on the floor. "Dammit, do you have any idea how hard finding a _replacement_ for it is going to be? We're going to have to cancel shows for a full week, which means ticket sales will be down, which means that YOUR paychecks will be down if you don't find me the people responsible for this immediately! I don't care if it turns out to be a plumbing malfunction, if that's the case, then go find me the damn plumber who messed up before I decide it's YOUR fault!"

"Yes sir!" the two guards said, immediately turning and running out of the room, one talking into a walkie-talkie. "I want parameters up and down this park, search every entrance, and remember the rules in place if you run into any of the toons..."

Their voices trailed off, leaving only Joey left in the empty factory floor. He looked down at Alice's remains on the floor once again.

"...you really were a star," Joey muttered. "For however brief. But now...I need to find your replacement as quickly as possible." Joey walked out of the room, and after a few painstaking moments of waiting, Tom and Allison left their hiding place.

Now that the deed was done and Joey was gone, Allison's mind was a whir. Tom was looking just as broken, and she could see the gears spinning in his mind as he paced back and forth around the room, carefully avoiding puddles.

She wasn't a fool. She knew full well who Alice's replacement was supposed to be.

She couldn't go home. Joey knew where she lived. It was in her employment records. It was just as dangerous here, especially with the added security prowling around, but what else could they do? Trying to leave was just as dangerous. They'd have guards posted around the entrance constantly now, and even if they didn't know that Allison was directly responsible for what happened, they'd be looking for her. They'd know. And of course, she couldn't leave Tom. She wouldn't.

"We can't stay here," she said finally. "It's only a matter of time before they come back. So the sooner we find a safe place to lay low, the better." She looked up at him. "What about that room you took me in, after our first fight with Alice? I woke up on some cots. We could stay there. Maybe find a way to barricade it to keep you from leaving during the day too."

Tom paused, putting his hand to his chin. He nodded.

"Getting out of the building will be tricky. But this factory uses the underground tunnels, right? Might be safer than walking around up top."

Another nod.

"Good," she said. She started to leave the room, but nearly tripped over broken metal pieces on the ground, remnants of knives or broken metal railings from where Alice had fallen up above. They'd grabbed onto her socks like ugly metal hands and...

Her eyes widened. She bent down and quickly started scooping metal parts into her arms, as much as she could carry. Bolts, nuts, metal screws, planks, wiring, anything she could find in a few moments and loaded them into an empty cardboard box. Tom looked at her with nothing more than a raised eyebrow and a confused expression. Satisfied with everything that she'd collected, she hoisted the box into her arms and turned to him.

"You still have your old toolset, right? It was back in that room you locked yourself in?"

Tom nodded, still not sure where she was going with all of this.

"I'll explain later," she said, following him through the halls to the tunnels underneath the park. "Let's just stop by that room first."

Tom knew better than to question her by now, and it wasn't like he was able to even if he wanted. So all he did was nod and lead her along through the tunnels that he'd ran through just a few hours ago.

* * *

They cleaned up her remains before the night was done. A few men with dustbins, trash cans, and shovels, scooping up the inky remains and wheeling them off. They left nothing behind. Nothing but a singular broken piece of a halo. That, he'd claimed for himself. His last memento of her. Of his angel.

How had this happened? Who could have done this to her?

To awaken, after so long he slept, so long he was sleeping in the dark and the ink and the nothingness, to awaken and have her gone was torture. And then he finds her, like this? A broken mess of limb and ink on the ground, barely recognizable from her once perfect beauty, the divine right only an angel could achieve?

Still. It could be worse. Because she wasn't dead. Not really. That's what he thought anyway. Because wasn't that the amazing beautiful thing about what Joey had accomplished? About what the ink machine represented?

He was apart of that world too now. A glorious part of that world. He didn't have a name or a character, but that was alright, he didn't need one yet. He was content with his place as a follower.

His angel was gone, but only for a moment. He just had to find someone else to take up the mantel. Someone even more perfect. His Susie had been good, but he was beyond that now, he'd seen into the inky wells, into the black void where nothing but voices and screams and whispers remained, where thoughts became reality and drifted between crumpled paper lines. He saw that the people didn't matter. Susie didn't matter. Sammy didn't matter. Only the souls they sought to bring to life mattered. Only Alice Angel mattered.

So he'd just have to find a new Alice. A new angel. It wouldn't take long. He'd already found the perfect replacement. And she would be perfect, he had no doubt. He just had to find her, and now that every ink puddle and inkwell spoke to him, it wouldn't be long before Miss Allison Pendle saw things like he did. Once he fell into the ink machine, everything just made _sense_. So much more than it did before. He just had to show her what an angel she could really become.

He took the remnants of the halo from the ground, keeping it with him, a small little memento of what was, and headed out to look for her. Miss Allison Pendle. His new angel.

* * *

Joey crossed his hands in front of his face. "So. Am I to believe that you're the one responsible for the mess in the factory?"

Norman didn't think he could see something more terrifying than Bendy. But he was wrong. He'd never felt his heart beat so quickly it actually hurt. He'd never felt his adrenaline pumping so fast that he thought he might pass out on the spot if he didn't get the chance to move and run away. He didn't get that chance of course. He was tied firmly to the chair, the broken remains of his projector in his lap. Joey had tossed it there rather painfully as a sick reminder of what he'd tried to do. Escape. And Joey's just been waiting to decide what to do with him. When Norman thought he might finally have a moment's rest, a moment to escape Joey's questions and accusations of trying to leave before after the park closed, Joey had marked back in with a fury he'd never seen before.

The GENT man from before was gone. He'd dropped off Norman, had a few words with Joey behind closed doors, then disappeared. Norman's relief was only temporary.

"I swear, I don't know nothin' about the factory," Norman stuttered. "I-I've been here this whole time, you know that, I've been tied up!"

"True," Joey said calmly. Norman didn't like that his voice was so calm. He could see the veins bulging on his forehead. The redness of his neck. The sound of his knuckles cracking. The calm voice didn't match.

"S-So then I didn't have nothin' to do with it," he said. "Just like I've been sayin' this whole time Mister Drew, I-I'd never do anythin' like that, honest! I'm loyal to you, where else would I have to go!"

"Still sticking with that story? About taking the projector home for some extra work? You're a dedicated, hard worker Norman, but that would certainly be going above and beyond what's expected of you," Joey said.

"I-I've just been noticing the projector acting kinda funny lately. Y-You know, it's gotta be in tip-top order so I can keep the little devil happy, ehehe...h-he's gotta be able to watch his cartoons after all! And I know that technology's up and developin' and everything, why, my little old projector's just about the oldest model out there nowadays," he rambled. "B-B-But you like things just the way they are Mister Drew, and there's nothing wrong with that, so I've just got to keep it working like it is! Keep up the repairs and good work! B-Because I love working here at Joey Drew Studios!"

The last part was a bit too forced, a bit too loud, they both knew it, but it was only Norman who winced at the shrill of his own voice.

Joey hummed. "...let me be clear, Norman. Things are not looking good for you. I don't believe a word you're saying."

Norman gulped.

"And right after I find you trying to run away, I come to learn that there's been an accident down in the factory that resulted in one of my finest creations turning into a pile of inky shit on the floor. And you're going to say you have nothing to do with this?" Joey stood up, towering over Norman. "I'm going to ask one more time. What happened in the factory? What did you do?"

"I swear I didn't do nothing," Norman said, his voice cracking as he tried not to cry. "I swear, I swear it wasn't me!"

"...well, unfortunately for you, there's no one else to take the blame," Joey said. "Bendy, if you would be so kind as to take him away."

Norman heard a growl behind him, looking up to see Bendy's grinning face gleaming down at him. He was wrong. Bendy was still more terrifying than Joey.

He screamed as Bendy grabbed onto the back of the chair, dragging him down the hall.

"WAIT! WAIT, WAIT IT WASN'T ME! IT WAS ALLISON!"

Joey raised his hand. Bendy stopped.

"It-it had to be Allison! Allison Pendle!" Norman said, his words scrambling over themselves. "She-she's been planning on taking this whole park down, she wants revenge after something happened to Tom, she came to me for h-help, but I swear, I had no part in this! I swear it, I swear I had no part in this!" he sobbed.

Joey was quiet. He drummed his fingers against the desk for a moment, then stopped.

"Miss Allison Pendle. Yes, I should have known. That's fine, I was expecting her to fix the mess anyway. It certainly makes things easier for my conscious knowing that she's the one who caused it though," he said. He turned to Norman and smiled. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mister Polk."

Norman felt relief wash over him as another cry caught in his throat. "S-So then, you'll let me go?"

Joey raised an eyebrow. "Let you go? Someone with your skills? No. I have something else in mind." Joey looked down at the projector in Norman's lap. "Thank you for your service, Norman. Consider yourself...promoted! Job security and all that. Alright Bendy, you know what to do."

"NO! NO, NO PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU JOEY, NO! NO! NOOOOO!"

Norman's screams echoed down the hall as Bendy dragged him back and forth, his cries of protest turning to nothing more than random, guttural shrieks for help. Whether Bendy heard them at all or he just face them with a bigger smile, Norman couldn't tell. But even as Bendy pulled him roughly down the stairs, swiveling around corners quick enough to form bruises, he didn't stop. He didn't stop until they were face to face with the enormous ink machine and Norman was reduced to nothing but a sniveling pile of sobs and snot.

"Please..." he whimpered up at Bendy.

The demon didn't even hesitate as he threw Norman, and his beloved projector, inside.

* * *

**Yo. YO. Have you guys SEEN the image the Bendy and Ink Machine page on Facebook and Instagram shared on Halloween?! If you haven't, go do that right now because ohhhhh my goodness O.O **

**As always, thanks for reading! A lot happens in this chapter, so feel free to share your thoughts on any piece of it, big or small! And stayed tuned for more in the next chapter of Welcome to Bendyland!**


	16. Chapter 16: In Wolf's Clothing

**Chapter 16: In Wolf's Clothing**

Joey sighed and sat back down in his chair. What a long night...and it was going to be an even longer day. It seemed like every day brought on a new challenge, a new mountain for him to climb before the sun fell again. That was just part of being a businessman though. Working hard. Pushing further. Making sacrifices. All in the name of glory and making dreams come true. Maybe he'd take another walk through the park today. Try to see some smiling faces. There wouldn't be as many with Alice gone and her shows canceled. He'd have to start releasing memos soon. He didn't want any angry parents breathing down his neck while he was trying to work. At least he still had Bendy though, and the newest Boris had just been completed the night before, so that was moving smoothly as well. Everything would be fine.

"Thank you for catching Norman before he left the park," Joey said.

Sigmund shrugged, taking a seat across from Joey. "Anybody could see a nervous man like that trying to hide something. Besides, you think I don't keep track of all the little pieces?" He started to laugh, but then trailed off. "...what's wrong, Joey? You seem tired."

"I am tired," Joey muttered. "I got woken up an hour into my sleep, in case you forgot."

"You know what I mean," Sigmund said. "You've lost a bit of that spark you used to have in you. You're not losing your drive for this, are you? After finally getting this close to your dreams?"

"Of course not."

"Then what's the problem? You signed up for this when I gave you the blueprints. You knew what this would cost. You knew what was at stake here," Sigmund said. "Come on Joey, we've been doing this for years now. You came to _us, _remember? To build a machine that could bring your ideas to life. You gave us every last dime to your name, took out extra loans just on the chance that would could provide. And we did. And now, you've paid us back and then some."

"The more replacements we make, the greater the possibility of a police force breathing down our necks," Joey added.

Sigmund waved his hand. "I told you. You let me handle the police."

"Yes, so you've told me."

"Back to the reason you called me here," Sigmund said. "The machine. You think it needs repairs?"

"It's needed them for a while," Joey added. "Or was it always part of the product for my cartoons to go wildly crazy after dark?"

"Small little defects," Sigmund said.

"Those little defects are a problem. Bendy is...well, Bendy I can handle. But the others? Alice was a terror after dark. She didn't listen to anyone or anything, and I think she might have been messing with the machine after dark as well."

"What about the Boris's?"

Joey scoffed. "We go through the Boris's so quickly _because_ of Alice that they don't stick around long enough to see if there _are_ any defects. And those replacements are getting expensive. People are getting suspicious. You remember Allison and Tom?"

"Yes, you filled me in on that," Sigmund said.

"Yeah, well, she's probably to blame for what happened in the factory. And she's doing all of this because of Tom. Because now he's a Boris," Joey added.

"And she's your replacement for Alice Angel. So you're worried that if we turn her next, that those negative defects might carry over. And not in a way that's beneficial to you," he said.

"The previous Alice Angel was wild, but predictable. She went after the Boris's because she believed they could make her beautiful. Allison? Who knows what she could be capable of," Joey said. "This needs to be the last time. No more replacements. I want this to end here. No more Boris's. No more Alice's. Allison needs to be the last one."

"I'll take a look at the machine and see what I can do, but it's going to be difficult without having the mechanic who helped build the thing," Sigmund said. "I mean really Joey, did you have to go and pick the same mechanic who constructed it to turn into a Boris?"

"Tom was getting too smart," Joey said.

"Well that's fair. I'll take a look. Make some adjustments. In the meantime, I'll work up a quick fix that should make things easier," Sigmund said, rising from his chair.

"What's that?" Joey asked.

Sigmund smiled. "The latest and greatest in GENT technology. We've already programmed into the machine so that the toons can't even think of harming you. But I want to take it a step further. They are YOUR creations. As such, they should have to do whatever you tell them to."

Joey raised an eyebrow and smiled. "That would certainly help things move along."

"Of course, this edition won't be free. I'll expect fair compensation on top of our usual rates. I'll work up a contract for everything," Sigmund said, standing up to leave the room. "In the mean time, try to track down that Allison, will you? And you'll need to start looking for a Alice Angel voice actress change as well."

"I'll take care of the business side," Joey said. "I can get my hands dirty."

"Oh I'm aware," Sigmund said. "Your hands are practically stained black with ink. Oh yes, I forgot to ask...what are you going to do about Henry?"

Joey was quiet.

"We're going to need him for this to work," Sigmund said.

"I'll take care of it," Joey said tightly. Sigmund shrugged and left the room, leaving Joey alone in his office.

* * *

When Allison and Tom walked into their safe room, they weren't expecting someone to already be there. And they certainly weren't expecting it to be Henry.

"Henry! What are you still doing here?!" Allison said. "How did you even find this place?"

"By accident," Henry said. He looked away. There were bags under his eyes. "Felt safe though. Sorry. Didn't mean to intrude."

"No that's not the..." Allison sighed. She ushered Tom inside and shut the door, locking it a moment later. "You were supposed to leave the park and go back home. Did you not make it out?"

"No. I could have made it out," Henry said. "The gate was right there in front of me. But I..." He put his hand on his forehead. "...they got Norman. I saw a GENT guy take him. And I...I did nothing. I just watched it happen. I saw the fear in his eyes. I knew he was in trouble. And I...I didn't do a thing." Henry met Allison's eyes. "By the time I finally came to my senses, by the time it finally hit me that I needed to help, he was gone. But I couldn't just leave after what I saw. I have to make sure he's alright."

"Shit," Allison muttered under her breath. She set down the box of parts on the ground and plopped on one of the cots, running a hand through her hair. Tom tried to cross him arms, but resorted to putting an arm on his hip instead, eyes narrowing at Henry.

Who was this guy? Why did Allison know him? Wait...this was Henry? THE Henry?! The Henry that helped start this whole mess? If Tom could talk, he'd have quite a few choice words for this rotten ba-

"If they got Norman, it's only a matter of time before Joey figures out I'm involved," Allison said. "I trust Norman, but I know he'll crack under pressure. I'm not sure I would be any different, faced with everything that Joey is capable of. But why'd you come here, Henry? Why not go straight to the studio and try to get him? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you didn't. That would have been suicide."

"I know it would have," Henry explained. "But it was getting late and I knew I couldn't be caught out at night, so I thought it'd just be best to call Linda then find a place to hide."

"You called her? From where?" Allison asked.

"Some of the pay phones around the park. I know it was risky, but I couldn't have her worrying about me, so I just told her I'd be a bit later than I thought and not to wait up for me," he said.

"Does she know you're here?"

"No. Not directly. But she's smart. It won't take her long to figure it out. After I called her and let her know, I knew I needed to find a place to hide. I was hoping I'd be able to find you. Figure out what your plans were, and let you know what was going on. But it was getting dark, so I headed down to the tunnels and found a place that I thought might be safe. And now, here we are," Henry said. "Just what's been going on up there? I thought I heard alarms."

"Long story," Allison said. "I'll tell you in a bit. Right now, I just...I just..."

Henry looked passed Allison, his brow raised in confusion. She looked over her shoulder to see Tom writing on the wall again. She hadn't noticed that he'd taken more ink and paint.

**Rest**

"Tom, I'm fine, I don't have time for that, we need to find a way to barracade you before the sun rises, we need to figure out a plan on how, or if, we can save Norman, we need to figure out how to save you..."

Tom shook his head.

**Sleep. I'll block the door.**

"You can't do that alone," Allison said.

He pointed to Henry.

"I can help," Henry said quickly. "I'm a bit confused as to what I need to do, but just give me the word. I'm Henry, by the way."

"This is Tom," Allison said. "My Tom."

"Oh! Yes of course, you're the Tom that she cares so much about," Henry said. "That makes sense then."

Tom had to resist the urge to smile, trying really hard to keep his stern expression focused on Henry.

Her Tom.

He liked that.

Allison sighed. "Alright, alright, I'll get some sleep. Just wake me when it's your turn, okay?"

Tom shook his head. **Don't need sleep.**

"Oh. Well...still. Wake me before it gets too late, or if you need me, or-"

Tom huffed, gently pushing her, and she laughed.

"Okay! Okay. You sure are bossy," she teased, but moved to lay down on the bed. Tom walked over to some of the cupboards in the room, hoping to find a blanket or pillow. He found some blankets, but she'd have to do without a pillow. That didn't seem to matter much though. By the time he returned to the cot, Allison was already fast asleep. He put the blanket over her and sat at her side, then finally turned to look at Henry.

"You need me to barricade the door?"

Tom's eyes narrowed. Henry swallowed.

"Is there...something wrong?"

**Your fault.**

"My fault? What's my fault?" Henry asked.

**Everything. You made Bendy. And Boris.**

Henry looked away. "I...I didn't think it would end up like this."

Tom knew he was right. He knew that this wasn't really fair. But he still needed something to be angry at. Seeing Allison curled up beside him, barely able to keep her eyes open for more than a few minutes but still trying to push on, keep fighting, was breaking his heart. She shouldn't be like this. She should be smiling and singing, dancing on stage and doing what she loved. But instead, she was stuck here, fighting for her life, fighting to protect him, refusing to leave his side. It was heartbreaking. It was infuriating. Tom hated it. He hated everything about it. He'd done enough hating on himself, and enough hating on Joey. Henry was the only thing left he could direct his anger toward, and he knew it wasn't fair, but dammit, he needed something to get mad at.

Tom smeared away his last words on the wall, then stood, pointing to the door.

**Block. When the sun comes up, I'll try to escape. Stop me.**

Henry nodded and stood up. "Right. Do we have any tools, or wood, or...?"

Tom headed beside him with his tools.

**I'll help. Just do what I say.**

Throughout the night, Henry and Tom worked to barricade the door with wood and nails. Occasionally, Tom would stop to make sure they hadn't woken up Allison. But even through all of their hammering and work, she'd slept soundly. How long had it been since she'd had any sleep? Too long, clearly. Eventually though, their work was done, and after letting her sleep a bit longer, Tom begrudgingly woke her up.

Allison rubbed her eyes and sat back up, looking at their handiwork at the door. "Oh...you guys did good work. How long until daylight?"

Henry check his watch. "We've still got a couple hours."

"Good," Allison said. "Tom, I'm going to make you a new arm."

Tom tilted his head and furrowed his brows.

"Well I'll need your help of course," she said. "But these spare parts I picked up from the factory can help, right? I'm no engineer, but you can help me. Show me what to do. Write blueprints on the wall. I can help. Besides, some of these factory parts are already designed to move since they're attached to mechanical attractions, like the Haunted House."

Tom put his hand to his chin, but then nodded. This could work. But they didn't have much time.

"Let me help too," Henry said. "Even if it's just handing you the tools you need."

Allison nodded. It wasn't easy. In fact, it was painstakingly difficult, and with their time quickly dwindling, every second was precious. They'd take breaks only so Tom could write more instructions, and Henry and Allison would work on tightening screws or attaching wires while he wrote out what to do next. Allison wasn't used to this kind of work, but Tom was patient, using his one free hand to point out what to do or where to put parts, even taking his tools back into his own hands now and then. Ten minutes before sunrise, they finished.

Tom squeezed his new hand one, twice, three times. He was surprised how quickly it responded, but it was Henry's idea to pump the same ink in Tom's body through small tubes down to even the smallest digits. And it worked like a charm. The arm was quite naturally, it didn't quite feel as right as his other arm, but this whole body was one big culmination of unnatural parts, so he adjusted quickly.

Allison sat back with a smile. "Success...now you'll have a better means to defend yourself. Once we make some tools that is."

"It's bizarre," Henry said. "Living like this, just below the park. Everyone up there just goes about their daily lives, while we're talking about weapons of survival."

"It does feel weird," Allison said. "But eventually, you just get used to it. It was even weirder having to force myself to try to continue my work here as a voice actress."

"You don't anymore?"

"No," Allison said. "Sammy brought an end to that."

"Sammy Lawrence? The music director?" Henry asked.

"Was. I...doubt he survived that attack with Bendy," Allison said. "He'd gone crazy, worshiping Bendy and some sort of divine being, claiming that the inky bodies were a higher form of some kind. He'd completely lost his mind. Even if Joey's hired a replacement by now, he's gotta be looking for me. I can't go back."

"Missing music directors, mechanics, workers, and even factory accidents...surely we're doing something with all of this? Joey has to be feeling the pressure, right?" Henry asked. "It's got to be hard to keep all of this under wraps."

"I thought so too. But then I came across the missing person reports," Allison said. Henry's eyes widened, but she continued. "Stacks and stacks of reports of people who'd gone missing. And not just adults. Children. Anyone who gets separated from the group seems to go missing, and yet it's all covered up somehow."

"To have that kind of power...Joey has to have the police in his back pocket."

"With as much money as this park makes, I wouldn't doubt it," Allison started, but then looked over at Tom, who was shaking his head and blinking. Her eyes softened. "...sunrise?"

Tom nodded. She saw him clench his fists over and over, grip at his arm and tense his whole body up. His mouth moved up and down, mouthing soundless words over and over again. It was hard to read what they were behind a wolfish face, but Allison could make out what he was saying to himself.

Tom. Allison. Tom. Allison. Tom.

She put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched, looking at her with wide, fearful eyes.

"It's okay," she said softly. "I'm right here. You don't have to fight it. You'll be alright."

He buried his head in her shoulder and gripped onto her shoulders tightly, afraid to let go, his whole frame shaking against her, but then he went limp against her. A moment later, he pulled back, and gave a large, wolfish grin at her.

"Hi Boris," she whispered, hoping he didn't notice the crack in her voice and the quiver of her lips. Boris the Wolf smiled at her and waved, bouncing back and forth happily.

Henry cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. "He...he has to go through that every morning? Slowly forgetting who he is?"

Allison nodded. "That's why he barricaded the door. Boris will try to entertain people. It's who he is. Not doing so probably feels like going against his very nature, so he'll try to go where the people are to entertain them. But if Joey catches his without an arm, or in this case, with his new arm, he'll have him destroyed."

"He probably already made a new Boris by now anyway," Henry said.

"Exactly. And having two running around would be bad for Joey."

"...well then," Henry said, moving to sit right in front of Boris. His ears perked up and turned toward Henry. "Let's see if we can use this leftover wood and string to make Boris here a banjo. If he can entertain us, then he might not try to entertain other people somewhere else. Right? It might...be easier on him."

Allison smiled. "Thank you, Henry."

* * *

"...you know looking for Norman will be best during the day," Allison said.

It was well passed midday now. Allison and Henry were both starving, and had cleared through the room's reserve cans of bacon soup hours ago. Boris was plucking away at the banjo strings in the corner, happily entertaining them with the same songs he knew over and over again. Any time he started to get restless, Allison would come up with a new game for them to play, or request a new song or dance, this Boris would smile, sit down, and start the same process all over again.

Henry looked up at her. "Yeah, but it's not like we can just leave Tom here to go look. We'd have to remove the barricades."

"Not necessarily," Allison said, heading over to the door. "Tom is smart. If this room is really going to be our safe room for a while, he'd find a way to make the barricade easy to remove and put back together again, but too complicated for Boris to figure out on his own." She fidgeted with a few gadgets on the door, and sure enough, a few moments later, the boards lifted and the door swung open. Allison smiled to herself. "I knew it. Tom's brilliant. He designed this barricade like a heavy-duty lock. We can close the door from the outside, and it will lock back up automatically. And moving it from the inside is tricky, you have to move this pin right here," she pointed out. It's too small to notice unless you know where to look."

"So...what?" Henry asked.

"So I'm saying, I'm going up to look for Norman. At the very least, I'm going to get us some food to store down here. If this place is going to be our home for a while, we're going to need food and water," she said.

"What? Alone? You know they're going to be looking for you," Henry said.

"Yeah, and they'll be looking for you, too, but I know how these tunnels work by now," Allison said. "Not perfectly, but I've got a good idea of where everything is and how to find my way around. I can also slip in and out of the crowds easier than you can."

"No offense Allison, but...you're covered in ink and filthy. I think you're still going to stand out," Henry said.

"Already thought of that," she said. "Joey keeps changing rooms where park staff can store their uniforms and shower. He doesn't like it when staff take their 'custom Bendyland uniforms' home, so they all store them. I can get in, clean up, and take a uniform before I'm even noticed. Joey won't be looking for someone in a staff uniform, I come to work dressed business casual normally."

"And what if it doesn't work? What if Joey still catches you?" Henry said. "Then what? Then we've got two missing people and we're both separated."

"Stop worrying," Allison said. "I'll only be gone for a minute. I'll do a quick survey, see if I can get an idea of where they're keeping Norman, grab us some food, then come right back. I promise."

"You know if you don't make it back before dark and Tom wakes up, he's going to kill me for letting you go," Henry said with a sigh.

Allison smiled. "Then I promise to be back before dark."

Henry stared at her and then ran a hand through his hair. "...there's no convincing you otherwise, is there?"

"Nope."

"Alright. Then just...be careful, and be quick. I'll stay here and keep Boris entertained. But if you're not back an hour before close, I'm coming to look for you. Okay? That gives you an hour and a half," Henry said.

"An hour before close. Got it," Allison said. She looked over at Boris, at Tom, and her eyes softened. He looked at her and smiled, waving again. She returned the smile and waved. "I'll be right back. I promise."

Then she left, closing and locking the door behind her.

* * *

**Yeah this chapter came out pretty quick after the last one, but not a lot happens action-wise in this chapter, so I thought you all wouldn't mind if I posted it early. I have a whole lot planned coming up, but this was honestly just the best stopping point before my word count grew to be enormous lol. Thanks for reading! ****I have so much fun writing this story! I hope you all enjoy it too!**


	17. Chapter 17: The Projectionist

**Chapter 17: The Projectionist**

Finally washing off the ink and dirt that had been stuck to her for days felt like heaven. It was amazing what a little warm water could do for her spirits. Allison grabbed a spare uniform after cleaning off and put it on, tucking her hair up into a ponytail and through the uniform's ball-cap. It wasn't much of a disguise, but from a distance, she was easy to mistake for any other food stand worker. There were phones here too, so she went ahead and called a friend to go check up on Cheese. She'd left her cat plenty of food, so she was sure he was alright, but any longer and she'd start to get worried. Content that everything at home was taken care of, Allison set off into the park.

Sticking to the outskirts and keeping her head low, Allison headed to food-stands that were the busiest. In her uniform, no one paid much attention when she ducked into stalls with other workers, carrying boxes of food under arms. She was an actress, after all. As long as she pretended she knew what she was doing, most people left her alone. The ones who didn't were dissuaded by a quick word or offhanded comment.

She'd managed to get quite a few boxes full of cans, food, and water, and headed back down to the tunnels. She still had plenty of time though, or at least, she thought she did. But she also knew that if she headed back inside of the safe room, Henry would probably try to convince her to stay. She could spare a few more minutes. Allison set down the boxes of food outside of the room then turned to head back through the tunnels. She had a feeling that if Joey were keeping Norman anywhere, it would be down underneath the studio, the same place that she'd found and rescued Henry. She peeked her head up into the park only once to check the time. She still had an hour and a half before the park closed.

Which meant an hour and a half that Bendy, and hopefully Joey, would be predisposed. So Allison headed to the studio.

The closer she got, the more voices she started hearing echo through the tunnels. Security offices paced the halls with flashlights. Her stunt in the studio had drawn way more attention than she would have liked, it seems. What was she supposed to do though? Alice was a menace. But she couldn't think of that right now, because the more she thought of Alice's, or Susie's, broken form in front of her, the ink on her hands, the she started to shake and tremble and lose her cool. If she was going to make it passed these guards, she was going to have to look and act the part. Even the slightest hint of nervousness could give her away.

She kept her head down. Moving passed them quickly, but not quite a run. One of them flashed their light at her, but she offered a smile and a wave, not pausing in her stride. That seemed to be convincing enough, because they soon moved on. Allison let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in, turning around and-

"Have you found anything yet?" Joey boomed, walked passed her and toward the guards. Allison's breath latched onto her throat.

"No sir, nothing. These tunnels are clear. Whoever they are, they're probably long gone..."

Joey grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. It took every ounce of control Allison had not to start running. But she had to keep her cool. Had to keep walking through the tunnels without running. Joey hadn't seen her face. He'd barely paid her any attention at all, actually.

She turned the corner and sure enough, there were the stairs leading below the studio. Allison took another look over her shoulder, but Joey and the other security officers were gone. She put a hand to her chest and allowed herself a few moments to breathe. She'd have to be really careful going back to the safe room. She didn't want to lead them there be accident. She was worried they'd find it, but she couldn't think of that right now. It sounded like they were finishing up the search, so maybe they'd cleared that room long before Henry, Allison, and Tom had even found it.

Allison took a deep breath, and pressed on. If Joey was down here, that gave her a small bit of time to look for Norman without him interfering. And Bendy would be out in the park. Now was her only chance. She wasn't going to waste it. She pushed on.

Going beneath the studio again made her heart pound. The last time she were here was saving Henry. In front of that ink machine. She hoped that wasn't where Norman was, she hoped that he would be in a room nearby that area without being near the ink machine itself. She just hated it. It made her skin crawl. She knew it was the source of everything, and she knew that if she wanted to fix this mess, she was going to have to face it again eventually. But right now, she wasn't ready.

She pulled out a flashlight. This time, she'd come prepared with that at least. The small beam of light swept across the dark stairwell as she descended. This place could really use an elevator. Maybe she'd search for one next time, but it probably required an employee key to activate, or who knows, even a key only Joey had access to.

A few floors down, Allison started her search. Norman might be in the actual studio, but if Joey had him contained, it probably wouldn't be the smartest to keep him where other ignorant employees could find him. No, keeping him down here made sense. She'd find him, she had to find him, she couldn't let something happen after he'd put so much on the line to help her. How many days had it been since he'd come to her apartment, fidgeting and stuttering in the doorway while she'd held a knife behind her back? And still, despite that, he was willing to help her. It was a risk, and she was grateful. She couldn't let that risk end in his demise. It wasn't right to sacrifice someone who was helping her to save Tom. A life for a life was never a fair trade.

Was there a light on in that room? That was promising.

Allison stepped onto the floor and away from the staircase. The walls were in decent condition here. Not great, ink still seeped between the seams and pooled at the ground, but the beams weren't sagging and the floor didn't creak, so it was promising. She headed down a long hallway. She'd never seen this area before. There were lots of rooms without doors, hanging lights and small candles lighting her way. She peeked into one room, surprised to see rows of books and chairs. She swept her flashlight down another hallway, this one with several doors and another stairway.

This place was huge, but...quiet. Everywhere else, there was the constant sound of ink pumping through the pipes. But here, that seemed distant. She could almost swear she heard a record playing in the distance too, and old instrumental melody.

Was peaceful the right word? It didn't feel right to call any part of this place peaceful. But it certainly wasn't as chaotic as the rest of the park and areas beneath the studio.

Despite that though, the very nature of this place, like a living quarters, felt wrong in its own right.

Were there people...living down here?

The peaceful feeling disappeared. The hair on the back of Allison's neck stood on end. She knew the feeling, and even as she spun around and looked in every corner without seeing another soul, it was unshakable.

She was being watched.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed on, but the feeling continued. Areas where she ducked into where she swore she saw a flash of glowing eyes, golden and pupil-less. But then they disappeared again.

She quickened her pace, resisting the urge to turn back and run away. Just a bit farther. She had to be getting close.

There was a room at the end of the hall. Lights flickered inside, and Allison careful opened the door. The light came from a projection, playing Bendy's old cartoons on the back screen. Aside from that light, it was fairly dark in the room, and Allison stumbled forward, using her flashlight to find pieces of furniture to move around, making her way to the screen. She watched Bendy dance across the screen, and felt a pang of sadness.

How could something as innocent as a cartoon go this far?

She shook her head and moved forward, casting a shadow over the screen and the light onto herself. And then she heard a hiss.

Allison froze, slowly sweeping her light around the room. That didn't sound like Bendy's voiceless hisses. This was new.

A low whimper, coming from the projector on the wall. Allison stepped forward.

"Norman?"

She moved her flashlight to the wall. There was a shape there, barely, among the wall, underneath the projector. She stepped closer, moving to get a better look. Was that...a body attached to the projector?

Suddenly an inky hand launched out at her, and wailing filled the room. Allison screamed, scrambling backwards as the monster reached out for her. He didn't make it very far, wires and tubes sticking out of his back and head were connected to the wall like leases, keeping him from getting too close. It screeched at her, a half-human half-mechanical noise that made her mouth go dry. The mechanical part monstrous and hungry and cold. The human part was anger and despair and familiar.

"Oh God...oh God oh God, N-Norman..." Allison squeaked. "W...what did Joey do to you...?"

The light from the projection flickered in front of her, and she squinted and turned away from the bright light. It made a gurgled noise, and Allison felt a choked sob rising up in her chest.

"I'm so sorry Norman..." she said. "I...I don't know how to save you, I-"

It screamed again, launching toward her with enough force that the tubes and wires creaked against the brick walls.

"Norman, stop! Stop it!" she begged, stumbling to her feet and pressing back away from him.

He kept pushing, again and again, straining against his restraints on the wall, clawing out at her, reaching out and flashing that light so bright she couldn't see, her eyes were hurting, but she tried to stumble away from him. She managed to push herself away, she heard him screech and push aside desks and chairs to get to her, but right as she thought the wall might give out and give him free reign to get to her, two hands grabbed her arm and pulled her into a doorway, shutting it tight behind them. Allison heard Norman, or whatever was left of him, howl in anger, but she was pulled further and further away.

Allison paused, taking a moment to catch her breath and look up at her savior. "Thank yo-"

A hand clamped over her mouth and nose, pressing a cloth up against her face. Allison struggled and pushed back, eyes wide in fear. She tried to hold her breath, tried to fight it, but her limbs were already refusing to listen to her.

"I still have one favor to collect, little angel," Sammy said, and Allison's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped down to the ground. The last thing she heard was Sammy's soft giggles and the humming of all-too familiar show tunes.

* * *

She'd been gone too long. It was well passed time when she should have been back, and Henry was getting worried. He'd found the box of food outside the door, a good indicator that she'd at least been by, but when he heard the security guards walking by, he'd feared the worst. They hadn't checked the room, thank goodness, but he knew he had to go after her.

Boris looked at him and tilted his head. He knew Tom would wake up soon. But he couldn't wait. He also didn't really want to face his wrath if he woke up and Allison wasn't there. No, Henry still had time to try to find Allison before the park closed. There was still time.

He quickly wrote Tom a message on the wall telling him where'd he'd gone and why, then looked over at Boris. He looked confused, but Henry knew he couldn't take him with him.

"Sorry," Henry said, heading for the door. "Hopefully I'll be back soon." He stepped outside and locked the door behind him, then hurried up to the park. He didn't know the tunnels as well as Allison, but if he were in the park, he'd be able to find his way to the studio. And that's the first place he had to check for her.

Crowds were starting to thin out a bit, families with small children already packing up and leaving as the park started to wind down a bit. It made navigating easier, but Henry was constantly on edge, looking over his shoulder constantly for someone staring at him for too long, someone who could have recognized him or was looking for him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. He wasn't sure.

He hurried to the studio, heading up to the gate and trying to slip in behind one of the other workers.

The worker paused and narrowed their eyes at him. "Excuse me, I don't see your nametag. Do you work here?"

Henry gulped. Play it cool. He smiled. "Yeah, down in maintenance, as you can probably tell since I'm covered in ink," he chuckled. "Lost my badge down in the tunnels. I'm heading up to get a new one now."

The worker relaxed and chuckled. "Those tunnels are awful. You new?"

"Y-Yeah," Henry said, forcing the small talk. "That obvious?"

"Most newbies are nervous. The whole toon thing sets them off. Just make sure you get your new nametag and get out of here before dark, and you'll be fine," the worker said, holding the studio door open for Henry and then disappearing down a hall with a wave.

Right. Henry didn't have a lot of time. He had to hurry. He glanced at his watch. It was late. He needed to move fast and avoid Joey's office. Norman was the projectionist, right? He'd head toward the recording studio.

He knew how to get to there, at least. It was like going home. He walked passed many other workers, some who gave him odd glances, but most seemed in a hurry, ready to rush and leave before dark fell. If anything, Henry's slightly frantic nature seemed natural with the other workers, and he was grateful that he blended in. He just kept his head down, and kept moving.

Finally, he reached the recording studio, hesitating outside of the door. He heard laughter on the other side. People? There was a faint woman's voice, maybe it was Allison, maybe she'd found Norman and just lost track of time. God, he hoped that was the case because being here in the studio was making him nervous. Joey could step out at any moment, pulling him away and...

No. Calm down, Henry. Just keep your wits about you. Don't get swept up in your fears. Ignore the way your heart is pounding and your hands are sweating. It's fine.

Henry took a deep breath and opened the door. He wasn't sure what to expect of his old art studio. It had been so long, would his old desk even still be there? Would it-

"Ah! Henry! Just the man we were talking about!"

Henry's blood ran cold.

Linda smiled at him. "Hello Henry! Goodness, you sure are a mess. Look! Joey Drew gave us free tickets for the day! He was just showing us where you used to work!"

Joey smiled, bouncing a little girl, Henry's little girl, in his arms. "What a beautiful daughter you have Henry. You should have introduced me ages ago! Isn't that right, little Audrey?"

Audrey laughed, but Henry felt like crying. His legs were shaking.

Linda's brow furrowed. "Henry? Henry, what's wrong? Are you alright?"

Joey put his free hand on Linda's shoulder and smiled at Henry. "Oh, I'm sure he's fine. Clearly so shocked to see you, he's at a loss for words! Why don't you come in Henry, take a seat!"

He couldn't. He couldn't move a muscle, how could he walk across the room and sit down?

"Joey's been telling me all about how you agreed to come back and work with the studio! Oh Henry, I'm so happy for you, I just wish you would have told me, I would have understood," Linda said, walking over and taking his hands in her own. "Listen, I know you worried about leaving Audrey and I behind while you worked, but we're okay! Audrey's getting bigger now, she'll understand when she's older too that her father has to work! And we can come visit you! Mister Drew said that we get lifetime passes since you work here again!"

"Linda," Henry started, his voice catching in his throat, but what could he say, how could he tell her that she was in danger, that their daughter was in the hands of a monster? Hadn't he told her about this place? About his fears?

No. He hadn't told Linda. He'd always made her leave the room. Always kept his fears to himself. And now, he'd dragged her into this hell with him.

* * *

When Tom woke up, he was alone. The realization sent him into a panic. He looked around for any sign of them, he knew he shouldn't have trusted that Henry, he knew it, he...

The wall. A simple message in handwriting that wasn't his or Allison's.

**She went looking for Norman. Gone too long. I'm going to look for her.**

Of course she'd gone off on her own, of course she couldn't just be patient for once in her life and wait for him to come back to his senses. No, she had to go running off again, putting herself in reckless danger because dammit that woman couldn't wait for anything in her life.

Tom gripped his head, pacing the room back and forth. What was he going to do?! Now they were both missing, and he didn't even know for how long! Surely they both left before dark, because it had to be dark now. But if they weren't back yet, and he was awake, then something must have happened, surely something must have happened. There was a box of food pulled inside, so at least part of their mission had gone well, but that didn't explain why they were here. He was hoping that Allison wouldn't even be able to figure out that the barricade to the door could be opened from the inside. If she couldn't figure it out, then that meant she'd be forced to wait until he was back to his senses and could go with her.

But no, of course not, Allison was too smart and too impatient to sit around idly by, and he couldn't even stop her, she left right in front of him but he was too busy playing a _banjo_ to go with her.

He hated this. He hated this body and this form and everything about it. He couldn't talk. He couldn't sleep. He didn't even need to eat. He walked around like a mindless drone during the day. He couldn't do _anything_.

He couldn't even cry in frustration, and he wanted to, he wanted to burst into tears or punch something or scream, but even if he tried, no sound would come out. Joey had sealed his fate and bought his silence all in one fell swoop.

Joey.

At first, Tom couldn't hate him. Or at the very least, he couldn't form thoughts about harming him. It was like a wall was built up in his mind to prevent such things. Probably just another side-effect of this forsaken body of his. But now, not even that wall could quell those feelings of hate.

This was all his fault. All of it. Every single thing that was going wrong in his life was because of that man. Allison was the only good thing this place had ever given him, only to rip it away from him again.

Tom grabbed his axe from the corner of the room and threw open the door. He needed to find Allison and Henry.

If Henry really had gone to look for her, then he supposed he really could be trusted. And he wouldn't leave him behind either. But he was going to find Allison first. It was a big park, but he couldn't just sit by and wait. No. He was going to find her and finish these continuous wild goose chases of the two of them tracking each other down. He'd make her understand that it was dangerous for her to go alone. For her, but also for him. She's the one who made the choice to come back into his life, after he'd given up the hope of ever seeing her again.

She was going to have to deal with those consequences.

* * *

**Finally found the perfect theme song for this arc in Welcome to Bendyland~**

**"Don't Speak" By Hidden Citizens. Give it a listen! Hidden Citizens is an amazing group that does covers and original music and this song feels like such a perfect fit for all of the themes for this fanfiction. If I had more time for art, I'd totally try to make a better cover art for this story than a picture of doodles I've done lol. Maybe someday. Anyways~**

**What do you guys think? Things are about to take a turn. A wild, crazy, turn. About two more chapters, and "Book 1" will officially be finished. Once that chapter is posted, I'll make a poll on my profile page asking whether or not everyone thinks I should start a second story for the next part or just continue here. I'll leave it up to you guys.**

**I hope you're all ready.**


	18. Chapter 18: The Space Beneath Hell

**Chapter 18: The Space Beneath Hell**

* * *

She woke up to a record player. It softly sang in the corner, a simple melody that bounced over itself in an endless loop. For a moment, she thought she was back home. Maybe she'd fallen asleep, forgetting to turn off the record. Cheese would be curled up at the foot of her bed. She'd have more stacks of unopened letters on her table. And any minute now she'd wake up and fix herself a cup of coffee, let the smell wash over her and wake her up, ready to face the day and push aside the nightmare of the past few days.

"Wake up little sheep. It's time to open your eyes."

The nightmare continued, it would seem.

Allison opened her eyes, noticing firstly the fact that her hands and feet were bound, and secondly that she appeared to be in a similar study to what she had seen earlier. This time though, the doors were closed, and she was locked inside. There was a desk with papers and inkwells, rickety old chairs lying in the corners, and she could have swore she heard the sound of rushing water nearby. She had been laying on a dusty old couch, and slowly moved to sit herself up.

"Where are you, Sammy?" she asked, looking around the room. Her exhaustion was quickly being replaced by anger. She couldn't see him, all she saw were books on the shelves and candles dotted around the room, a hazardous combo that made her nervous. One wrong move and this whole wooden place would be up in flames.

"Not far. Just keeping my distance for now. I thought I'd let you wake up a bit before bombarding you," he said. She hated the laugh that hinted around the edge of every word.

"Oh gee how kind," she said, gritting her teeth. "What do you want?"

"You, of course. More specifically, I want you to become what you were always meant to be. The perfect angel."

"Why am I surprised..." she muttered. "You're still just as crazy as ever."

"Crazy? Maybe. Maybe I really have lost my mind. It's hard to tell now that there are so many voices all in my head. Whose to say which one is my own anymore?"

"...what happened to you, Sammy?" Allison said softly. "In all the years I've known you, I...I never thought you could become this. I even used to consider you my friend. We didn't always get along, but I enjoyed working with you. When did it all change? When did your work become something more than a job, when did Bendy become something more than a cartoon?"

"The ink machine," Sammy answered.

He sounded much closer to her now. But she still couldn't see him.

"I was there. The day they brought it in. The empty pieces. The pipes. The GENT workers all in black suits. I didn't know what Joey was planning, but I was days away from quitting, so sick of working so many hours with disrespect, writing nothing but children's tunes...I knew I had talent. I knew I could do more. You're the same way, aren't you? You're better than this place. Better than Joey's greed masquerading as a dream. But then...he did it. He did the impossible. He brought his dream _to life_."

"It's a nightmare," Allison said.

"NO! No. Maybe he's not perfect. Maybe Bendy is quite what he was envisioned to be. But don't you understand? Joey drew took something that was _thoughts_, an _idea_, a _concept_, and he created life from it. What if my songs could be brought to life? What if this whole world could be rewritten, where the things that we imagine and want for ourselves, the dreams we keep tucked away, could be crafted to be real? We could touch them, see them as more than just ink on paper, but forge our own futures with only the limits of our imagination?"

"That doesn't sound like a dream world at all," Allison said. "I think we'd all be trapped in the same hell we are now, where our dreams become distorted messes of ink and darkness. Bendy should not exist, Sammy. None of this place should exist."

"That's a matter of perspective. Whether or not something should or shouldn't exist is irrelevant if it already does."

"...why won't you show yourself? Really?" Allison asked. "What happened?"

She was met with silence. The record had finally reached the end, leaving nothing but repeating notes at the end, slight static.

"Come out, Sammy. If you're going to kidnap me and force me to listen to your delusions, then you're going to show me your face," she said. "I want to see if there's anything left of my former friend."

Sammy chuckled, and Allison saw movement to her left. She'd thought it was just a dark shadow against the wall, something cast by the dim lights of candles against the bookshelf and nothing more.

"Well, if you see anything of him, be sure to let me know."

The shadow moved, a darkness that didn't reflect the light or bend around it walked toward her. Something vaguely human. Something that was once human. Ink clung to his skin, dripped and pooled around him in puddles, but left other parts of him bare, like the process to change him was never fully finished. She could still see his work clothes underneath, caked with dried ink. It swelled around his neck, stretching up and reaching across half of his face, a process not quite done. One of his eyes was just a golden hole now, nothing more, and the other looked half-mad. Ink dripped from his mouth and from his one good eye, black tears melting into the rest of his inky form. There were horns, but they were wrong, sticking out of the sides of his head at not-quite symmetrical angles, and the remnants of a half-broken halo stuck there too. He was half a monster, half devoured by the ink, and Allison thought she might get sick at the sight of him.

She couldn't form words, she just gaped at him in shock and horror. He gestured to himself and smiled. "I know, I know, not quite finished, am I? But I will be soon...still, it's better than nothing. I've gotten a taste of what's on the other side now...a taste of what it's like to exist as a thought, as a figment, and to pulse in and out of reality. I know what it's like to live in puddles. I hear Bendy's voice Alice, I can finally hear it, _constantly_, a constant hiss and voice and tone that's always speaking to me!"

"Don't call me Alice," Allison said, and narrowed her eyes.

"But that's what you are! That's why you were brought here! Everything happens for a reason, don't you see that everything here has a purpose? Tom had a purpose, you have a purpose, and I, even I have a purpose! We're all here to appease the demon so that he can grant us a reality that others can only dream of!"

"Some dream," Allison said. "Sammy, look at yourself! You...you've turned into an abomination, something half in the ink and half human, wha...how can you call that existing?! You used to write music and conduct orchestras and now you can do nothing but stumble around the room, waving ink-stained hands and rambling like a lunatic and purpose and appeasement!" she shouted. "Snap OUT of it, Sammy!"

He paused. His eye flickered. He looked at his hands, then back at her for a moment, brow lifting up in confusion.

She knew the look. She'd worn it often.

He was scared.

But then he scowled and walked over to her, and Allison sunk back into the couch. "Don't speak to me as if you know a damn thing about me, Allison," he said. "What do you know? You don't know anything. You don't know how hard it was for me to let Susie go. To pretend it didn't hurt me to see her in such pain. Then, when I'd finally moved on and thought things were better, thought that maybe I'd found a new angel in my life, I find out that she's gone and made doe-eyes at a filthy, talent-less _mechanic._" His breathing had quickened, taken on a reverb of something else, something deeper and darker that made her skin crawl, something inside of him that hinted that the monster wasn't just skin-deep.

Sammy grabbed her arm and roughly hoisted her to her feet. She thrashed about, dragging her feet into the wooden planks to stop him, but his grip was firm and insistent, and he barely hesitated, even as she used all of her strength to try to get away.

"You say this studio, this place, has changed me. You don't even know the first thing about this place."

"Let me go, let me GO!" Allison shouted, but Sammy just pulled her along and then pushed her through a doorway. She stumbled forward, the binds on her legs keeping her from moving more than a small step or two, and nearly fell backward in shock as she stared down into a river of ink. She yelped, and Sammy grabbed her arm again to keep her from falling into the roaring waves of ink. She heard it falling over the edges around her like waterfalls.

"Are...are we...?"

"Below the walkways," Sammy answered. "This is where Joey keeps the water and ink that run off from the park."

"It doesn't look like water," Allison said cautiously.

"The ink rises to the top. But that's not why I've brought you over here. You need to understand just how big this whole thing really is. Why this is bigger than you, and me, and anything other than the ink machine and Bendy himself," Sammy said flatly.

Allison turned to see what he was staring at across the river, and felt herself freeze.

Houses. More than two dozen of them. Stacked and built with loose wooden boards or dirt, pressed together on stilts to rise above the water. There were bridges and boats and chairs, all standing around a clearing. Messages were scrawled onto the walls, some coherent, some just children drawings. And slowly, one by one, Allison watched as figures came out of their houses, poked their heads out of windows or around corners to stare at the two of them. They were nothing but humanoid masses of ink, with sad, golden eyes that pierced her very soul.

"The missing and lost people..." she whispered.

"Once they were lost. But Bendy found them. He found them, and turned them into the only thing he knows. He doesn't understand, he doesn't exist the same way that we do. Don't you see, Allison? Bendy, me, you, and everyone else who's a part of this part, we're all meant to be the first of something much greater. The evolution of the human race. The next step. We're what comes next. An existence built entirely upon the fabrication of thought itself. No need to eat. No need to sleep. All we need are our dreams...and a few other things. Namely, we're missing our angel."

"I won't," Allison whispered. "I won't be like this...I'm not going to be your angel...I won't! I won't, I won't!" she screamed, breaking into hysterics and trying to crawl away from him. He stared down at her with a slight smile, like she were a child throwing a temper tantrum, and not a scared adult who thought she might die if her heart beat any faster. Every breath turned to choked sob as she tried to back up, tried to get away from him as he stepped closer. She reached the edge of the dock, looked down at the churning water and waves below her. The inky river stretched down and around the corner, a canal that may never have an end. She looked back up at Sammy, at his half-consumed body, she thought of Tom and his forced silence, the fear in his eyes every morning as the sun rose, and the chilling stillness his body fell to as he lost his mind.

Dangling between the edge of hell and oblivion, Allison made her choice.

She rolled over the edge of the dock, saw Sammy's eyes widen and his mouth open in rage and horror, but she didn't hear his scream. She tumbled beneath the pitch black waves, and heard nothing but the sound of water rushing in her ear.

She felt herself knocked against the walls, struggling against the bindings on her feet and hands. The currents dragged her below the water, the ink and water filling her nose and mouth. She gagged at the taste and the smell, looking to grab onto something, anything to keep her above water. The water spun her head over feet, tumbling, and there was nothing but darkness. She couldn't tell if she were up or down, but she felt something brush against her thrashing hands and she grabbed on tightly. If her hands were tied behind her back instead of in front of her, she probably would have drowned, but she held tight and pulled her head above the water.

Allison still felt the water crashing against her, and her fingers were under constant threat of losing their grip and sending her back into the dark abyss. She held on, kept pulling, trying to use the strength of her arms and not her tied wrists. She kicked her legs to push herself up, feeling them loosen slightly. One more kick, and the ropes gave way completely. Allison kept pulling on the rope, dragging herself higher and higher until she felt solid land. She heaved herself over it and collapsed into a fit of coughs and gasps.

Alive. She was alive.

And she was cold. It was dark here. The river of ink and water had sent her tumbling through the tunnels, through ravines and caverns passed any other structures. There was no light here. No flickering fluorescent bulbs or dimly lit candles. Complete and utter darkness. The only thing keeping her grounded was the wood underneath her, and the sound of the roaring waves below.

She wasn't sure where she was. Maybe some sort of builder's platform, left behind after they made this place. She wasn't sure. She tugged and pulled at the binds on her hands. The ink had made them slippery, slippery enough to squeeze free. She rubbed her wrists and felt around in her bag, still slung over her shoulder. Her knife was gone, or course Sammy would have taken that with him, but she felt around until her fingers brushed up against her flashlight. Her heart filled with hope for a moment, and she pushed the button.

Nothing. Either the water, ink, or tumbling and crashing into the walls had ruined it completely. Dejected, she tossed the thing into the river. It plopped down a few feet below her.

She shivered, rubbing her arms to try to keep herself warm. It was cold down here, without any lights. Just how far down was she? She'd always known the drainage channels were down here, far below the walkways she'd traveled beneath the park, but she didn't know there was an entire civilization down there are well, an entire network of people and channels and rivers...

A whole world beneath the park. It didn't feel real. There shouldn't have been any realistic way for builders to craft something this far down. It didn't make sense. This place had to have been built before the park, but even when this place was just a studio, she never knew a place like this had existed. How could she even fathom it? It seemed so vast, so far below everything else.

Allison leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, tried to push out the darkness that always seemed scarier with them open. Henry would have gone looking for her by now. Tom had probably woken up too.

Why hadn't she just stayed with them? Why hadn't she just waited patiently until they were ready to go search for Norman with her? It's not like she'd been able to save Norman anyway. No. She hadn't been able to save anyone.

She couldn't save Tom. Or Susie. Or Sammy or Henry or Norman and not even herself, and she hated it. If the cold wasn't seeping the strength from her, she'd scream and kick and punch something, but right now, all she could do was huddle into a ball and feel sorry for herself.

"Tom..." she whispered. "I'm sorry...I guess I won't be back soon after all."

* * *

Tom only felt a little better with the weight of the axe in his hands. It was better knowing that he had two hands to use it. Allison really had done a good job with it. He could move each digit, and while he didn't really feel it like he did his other limb, it took naturally to the rest of his body. He probably had the ink to thank for that. The ink machine itself was an algorithm of machinery and ink, so it made sense that he worked the same way too.

His axe couldn't do much against Bendy though. He remembered their last encounter. How he'd almost gotten Allison. He wasn't about to go looking for a fight with the ink demon, but if he stumbled upon Joey, he'd see just how far his hate would take him in this form.

He hurried through the offices, not carrying if people saw him. A few did, their eyes wide only for a moment before they rushed off. He didn't hesitate though. People didn't bother him.

He hesitated when he saw the other Boris though. It was just for a moment through one of the studio windows. The Boris was outside the studio, happily strumming a banjo. He didn't appear any differently than he did during the day, but it was still...odd. Like thinking you saw your twin or brother that you didn't really have. He shook it off though, and kept going into the studio. He still didn't really know where he was going exactly. The ink machine? No. He wanted to stay away from there if at all possible. Joey's office? Maybe. He wouldn't be surprised if his angry footsteps led him there eventually. He headed past rooms and sound booths, animation desks and offices, then finally passed by a room where he heard a familiar voice.

"-told you Henry. All I need is your cooperation."

"You brought my family into this, Joey. My _family_."

Tom stopped. He lingered in the doorway, crouching down and pressing his ear against the wood. Was that voice...Henry's? Talking to Joey? He was tempted to call him a traitor, but judging by Henry's fearful tone, he didn't think that was the case. As easy as it would be to believe, Henry didn't sound to be double crossing them intentionally.

"You didn't give me a choice."

"_Fuck_ you, Joey. Damn you to hell," Henry's voice broke, breaking into something Tom couldn't place, but it went quiet. "How...how could you do this to me?"

"I told you," Joey said calmly. "You didn't give me a choi-"

"No, NO! You're wrong and you're _sick_ and to hell with you and this place and-"

"I DON'T HAVE A CHOICE!" Joey roared. Tom flinched, as did Henry on the other side. Joey took a deep, shaky breath, then dropped his voice. "I've been trying to tell you, but you still won't listen. No matter what I do, you don't listen to me, Henry. I never wanted to bring your family into this, but there's nothing else I could think of to get you to listen to me."

"So blackmail, then? For what? What do you need me for?" Henry asked.

"I need you to tell me where Allison Pendle is."

Tom froze. His eyes widened.

"I don't know where she is."

"Don't lie to me, Henry," Joey said tightly. "I don't think that's wise given-"

"I'm not lying," Henry snapped. "She went to search for Norman Polk this afternoon, and I haven't seen her since."

"...so you have been meeting with her?" Joey asked.

"Yes," Henry said.

"So. You, Allison Pendle, and Norman Polk. Is there anyone else I should be worried about?" Joey asked.

Henry was quiet. Tom took a step back, his foot creaking against the wooden floor. Joey didn't seem to notice, but Henry glanced at the door for a moment before looking back at Joey.

"Just us," he said. "We are planning on dismantling the park. To stop you."

"Are?" Joey asked.

"You got my family involved, Joey," Henry said. "So you hold all the cards. I'll do what you say. I'll do what you want. But I promise you that I will never stop wanting this park to burn to the ground. And you with it."

"That's fine," Joey said, turning and walking toward the door. "I don't need you to like it here. I just need you to do your old job again."

"Where are you going?" Henry asked.

"To find Allison Pendle. She's been too meddlesome for too long. It's time she learned her place," Joey said. He opened the door to the hallway, but Tom was already long gone.

* * *

Allison didn't stay on that platform for too long. Just long enough to catch her breath and give herself a pep talk. But staying here in the darkness was too much. Her eyes hadn't adjusted, and she was ready to be back in the light. For all she knew that ink had gotten in her eyes and she couldn't see a thing anyway, but she didn't think that was the case. Her eyes stung a bit, but nothing that felt like a newfound blindness.

Keep one hand to the wall and one hand in front of her, Allison carefully began to crawl across the wooden platform. She wasn't sure where it would lead, but she hoped it didn't just drop off into nothingness. There were a few times the platform started to wobble underneath her, years of instability rearing its head, but it always held. Eventually, the platform started to get sturdier and move upward, and Allison felt a warm breeze brush across her skin. She moved toward it, and slowly started to see the faintest of lights in the distance. She continued to climb up and up, she wasn't sure how high or for how long, but the platform turned to rickety stairs beneath her feet. When she saw the blue light more clearly, she smiled.

She nearly ran to it, but forced herself to stay grounded. Light could mean people, and not everyone out there was a friendly face. When she crept toward the light, she realized that the soft light was coming from a drainage grate at the park. Her platform ended, and once upon a time, before the drainage grate had been built, this might have been an entry or exit way for the builders. Now, it was just a dead end that lead to a peek at the outside world. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to peer around her, but didn't see anything or anyone. Night had closed the park in shadow, but the light of the stars and moon was enough for her to know where she was. She was near Bertrum's new ride, halfway between the studio and the food stands. She was about to lower herself back down when she saw feet move passed the grate. She knew those feet.

"TOM! Tom, I'm down here!" she shouted. The feet stopped and moved back to her, bending down to look between the grate bars.

Boris tilted his head at her.

Oh. Not Tom. The new Boris.

Allison swallowed her disappointment and forced a smile. "H-hey there, buddy! Do you think that you could help me get out of here? I'm stuck."

The Boris looked confused, and then concerned. It tugged on the bars, but then looked worried.

"Maybe if you could find some tools or something. Like, um...oh! The ride! Bertrum's ride! He's been working on it so I bet there are tool lying around. Like a crowbar! Do you know what a crowbar is?" she said.

Boris blinked.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," Allison whispered to herself, but then turned back to Boris. "A long piece of metal, it's curved on the end. Can you get it for me? Please?"

The Boris smiled and nodded, then ran off. Allison hoped he'd be right back. The toons naturally gravitated towards people who were upset or crying in the park. Some sort of "helpful" intuition maybe, but in this case, it might be helpful. Allison wasn't sure why this Boris was still acting "cartoony" after the sun went down. It actually made her a little nervous. Whoever this person used to be, there didn't seem to be any trace of them left, at least not that she could tell. Would it have been that way with Tom, too, if she hadn't run into him so early? She wasn't sure, but she didn't have time to think on it much before the Boris returned with a metal plank, a wrench, and, thankfully, a crowbar. Allison pointed to the one she wanted and the Boris handed it to her. She shoved it into the grate edge, and was just about to push when Boris suddenly stood bolt upright.

Footsteps.

"Boris, what are you going over there?"

_Shit._ Joey.

The Boris pointed down beneath the grate and Allison dove into the shadows, praying that her ink-covered body would help her blend into the darkness. Joey's freshly shined shoes appeared in front of the grate.

"Is there something down there?"

"Maybe an animal fell down there or something?"

Wait, that voice...

Henry?

"Hmmm..." Joey crossed his arms and bent down, but then stood back up a moment later. "That grate leads straight to the channels for water below. If something fell down there, it's dead by now." Joey yanked the other tools out of the Boris's arms and glared at him. "What were you doing with these? You're not supposed to touch things that aren't yours. That's against the rules. Go put them back."

Boris pointed again at the grate, but Joey crossed his arms and Boris scurried quickly back over to Bertrum's workplace.

Allison peeked through the grate. Was it really Henry?

"Are you going to let me go home to my family, now?"

"No, not yet. You'll see them again tomorrow. Linda told me she'd be back, after all, I gave them free season passes." Joey laughed. "Don't look so glum Henry, it's not like I'm going to do anything to them. I'm not a monster. I just needed you to have a little more work motivation! Now, where do you think Allison would have gone?"

"I told you, I don't know where she is," Henry said. "She could be anywhere. She could have gone home for all I know."

"She's not home. I've had a few men already sweep her place. She's not there, so she had to be here somewhere."

Henry sighed and turned away from Joey and back toward the grate. Allison dove back into her hiding place.

Had he seen her?

"What's wrong, Henry?"

Allison held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Had he seen her? Was he going to give her position away?

"Nothing," Henry said. "Let's keep looking so I can go see my family again."

Joey grunted and slowly their footsteps disappeared further down the path. Allison let out the breath she'd been holding.

She wasn't as mad at Henry as she thought she'd be. Probably because she wasn't really sure she'd be able to do any differently in his position. And she was sure that he'd seen her just a second ago, but he hadn't given her away.

No. Henry hadn't betrayed them. He was just under a much closer watch, more now than ever before.

Allison shoved the end of the crowbar under the grate again and heaved. A moment later, the grate popped open, and Allison was free.

* * *

**I hope you guys don't mind that I took quite a few creative liberties with Sammy's appearance. It didn't really make sense to me that he would look the same as all the other Lost Ones, especially if we assume that it was Alice that put him in the ink machine. It made sense to me that his appearance would look wrong as a result, so I hope you don't mind the route I've taken. I hope I've described it enough! Let me know if you've got any feedback! Thanks!**


	19. Chapter 19: The Secret to Success

**Welcome to Bendyland Chapter 19: The Secret to Success**

* * *

Tom saw her running and almost didn't recognize her. Covered in ink from head to toe, he could have easily mistaken her for that other angel. Susie. But he knew they'd finished her off. Besides, the way Allison moved was different. Where Susie was crazed, like an animal stalking prey, Allison was quick. Sharp movements, looking over her shoulder, crouched so her feet would make less noise on the cobblestone. He sprinted over to her, trying to keep his own footsteps quiet, but he supposed his excitement and worry got the best of him, because she spun around, lifting the crowbar up in surprise.

"Tom! Tom, _there_ you are!" she said, looking him over to make sure it was really him.

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug before looking her over quizzically. Why was she so wet? She sighed and pushed her wet hair out of her face.

"Sammy," she said.

Tom's grip tightened.

"I'm alright," Allison said. "But Sammy is definitely a threat, maybe even more than Alice was. I saw Henry too, but..."

Tom shook his head.

"Yeah. So you know too?"

Tom nodded.

"It's not his fault," Allison said. Tom nodded again. At least they were in agreement. "We should get out of here. Henry and Joey are walking around looking for me. They might be looking for you, too."

Tom pointed to himself and shook his head.

"Not you? Well that's something at least. For now, we need to get back to the safe room. Though...Henry knows where that is. And he'll probably have to tell Joey. I don't think I can go home either. Dammit..." she whispered. "Where can we go?"

Tom wished he had an answer, something he could tell her, something he could do to sweep her away and keep her safe, but that didn't look like an option. This whole park was going to be crawling with people looking for her. On top of that, neither of them had seen Bendy for a while, and that thought made Tom's skin crawl. He glanced back at Allison, watched as she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes were focused in the distance, scanning the horizon for a burst of inspiration, but he could see the slow panic sinking in. They didn't have anywhere to go. They had long passed the point where Allison could go home and leave Tom behind, even though she'd made it abundantly clear that wasn't an option.

"Maybe...maybe it's time we stop running."

She met his gaze, and moved his hands from her shoulders to hold them close to her instead. It was odd, how one mechanical hand and one cartoonishly gloved hand could still overshadow hers, how they didn't _feel_ like Tom's hands, but the movements were still so clearly his in the way they squeezed her hands, or how his thumb would trace over her palm in worry.

"Joey's expecting me to run. To hide. Maybe it's time I do something he isn't expecting. Everything Joey does here has a purpose. A plan. He doesn't like it when things don't go the way they should. The more chaos we cause, the more Joey will have to worry about. Maybe the more leverage we can have over him. I'm not going to run and hide my entire life. If we want this to end, we have to hit Joey where it hurts." Allison held up the crowbar. "And I think I know where to start."

* * *

It wasn't hard to find him a second time. She remembered how to get there. Remembered where he'd been. So leading Tom there took less time than she expected.

Allison held a finger to her lips and motioned to the door in front of her, and then opened the door slowly. The room was just how she remembered, full of desks and soft lighting, with a projectionist light still flickering in the corner. Tom warily walked in behind her, and Allison led him deeper into the room, but kept the two of them close to the wall. After a moment, she nodded, and Tom stayed put while she stepped forward into the projection light again.

Instantly, the figure attached to the wall screeched and slashed out at her, a machine-like roar filling the room again. But this time, Allison knew the limits of his reach. His claws came close to her face, and she dug her fingernails into her palms to keep her from flinching and pulling away. The projection light was blinding, right in front of her face, but she didn't shield her eyes. She made only slow, calm movements.

"Hey Norman," she said softly. "We came to visit you."

His thrashes slowed, pausing for a moment before he growled and lashed out at her again. She briefly closed her eyes, but still held her ground.

"I know...I know you're mad at me. It's my fault you're in this mess. It's my fault you're here. That's what you're thinking, right?" She opened her eyes. "You're right. And I'm sorry. I should have made sure you got out. I should have made sure you got out of this place. I'll take accountability for that. But this...what you are now. It's not my fault."

Norman screeched, the projector flickering madly as he pulled against the wall. She couldn't feel his breaths, there wasn't a mouth there anymore, but she could see his chest rise and fall, leftover habits from a body he no longer had.

"It's Joey's fault. It's Joey's fault you're like this, Joey's fault that we're both stuck in this whole mess. I just want to help you, Norman. But I need you to help us first. And to do that, I'm going to trust you. I'm going to trust that you're still in there somewhere. I know you're angry. I know you're upset. You have every right to be. I just ask that you take it out on Joey, and not me." Allison glanced behind Norman for just a moment and nodded.

Tom's grip tightened on the crowbar. He really hoped Allison knew what she was doing. But he'd trusted her this long, and he was going to keep trusting in her wild plans, wherever they took them. Tom shoved the edge of the crowbar into the wiring and tubing that connected Norman to the wall and pulled. Wires popped and sizzled, sparks cackling around them. Norman's misshapen body jolted, thrashing and convulsing as his roars were tinted with pain.

"Keep going!" Allison shouted, and Tom continued. He slashed out with the crowbar, continued until all the wires and tubing were separated with one last slash. Norman went limp, his head and arms hanging low and the projector light dimming with a whir.

Allison took a cautious step toward him. "Norman? Norman...are you okay?"

Had they killed him? Was she wrong? She told herself that even if worse came to worse, maybe death would be better than Norman's current suffering, but now, seeing him limp and smelling nothing but singed rubber and burnt ink, she was starting to second-guess herself.

She saw the smallest bit of light flicker across the projector, and she bent down to have a closer look.

"Norman?"

He screamed and slammed into her, the light coming back on with a full, bright beam she could barely see through. She felt her back hit the wall and Norman loomed over her. Tom grabbed the crowbar and raced over to them, but Allison raised her hand.

"Wait!"

He paused. Allison's eyes were locked onto Norman, but her hand was outstretched to Tom. She panted, her whole form trembling as Norman kept perfectly still over her. He growled lowly, quietly, and reached out to her arm. He gripped it firmly, but gently, and pulled her to her feet. His body swayed back and forth unsteadily, his screams dying down to soft hums and rumbles, and the constant sound of the reels spinning in his head.

"You're still...you're still in there, aren't you?" she whispered.

Another low whine. It sounded like crying. His whole body was shaking over her, tense and poised and ready. She couldn't see anything of the man he once was. Not the skittish movements or the shaky smile and eyes behind small glasses. There was nothing to give her any indication that the man who had once stood cowering in her doorway was still alive. Except for the first time she'd seen him like this, as this monster. She thought he'd been wanting to attack her. That he hated her for getting him involved. Her eyes widened.

"Back there, the first time I found you. You were never trying to attack me, were you? You were trying to warn me. That Sammy had been following me. Weren't you?"

Norman nodded, a slow thumping motion that looked over-exaggerated with his big head.

Tears welled up in Allison eyes, but she wiped them away quickly.

"Thank you, Norman. And sorry for hurting you by pulling you away from the wall. But we still need your help. We want to put an end to this. We want to show Joey that we're not going to just sit around and hide, waiting for him to find us. Do you think you can help us?" Allison asked.

Norman hummed for a moment, and then nodded. Allison breathed a sigh of relief, and turned to Tom with a smile.

He couldn't believe she'd actually done it, that she'd actually managed to calm this beast Norman had become. He felt himself smile, and he handed her back the crowbar.

He was a fool for ever doubting her.

* * *

Joey was down to his last cigar. And his last bit of patience. Henry had been leading him in circles, and nothing was turning up any answers. They'd gone to some room down under the walkways, stocked with food and blankets, covered with writing on the walls. Most of it didn't make much sense. Henry explained that this is where they'd been hiding out. A safe room. They'd missed this room when they combed the walkways earlier. He'd have to be more careful in case Allison decided to come back. Joey tried to convince Henry to lay low, try to trick Allison and lure her out, but Henry insisted that Allison wouldn't trust him. That she didn't trust anyone.

They'd headed back up to the park, walking toward the studio with a few guards sent out to patrol the park.

"Aren't you worried Bendy will get to them?" Henry asked.

"No. I train my men what to do if they run into Bendy. All they need to do is smile," Joey said. He took a drag from his cigar and then worked his way up the steps. "Hurry up," he said, and Henry quickened his pace. He'd been lagging behind this whole time, and Joey wasn't about to keep his back to Henry for long. Henry wasn't the type of person to try anything dangerous, but a man gets desperate when his family is on the line. And really, how much did Joey know about Henry over these past couple of years?

More than a couple, he supposed. Time had really flown by.

Joey headed into the studio, Henry at his heels, and briskly walked toward his office. Everyone except for guards had gone home for the night, and the only lights left on were a few on the halls to save money on electricity. Right as Joey turned the corner to his office, he heard a screech. His eyes widened as something big and heavy stomped down the halls. The Projectionist rounded the corner, locked eyes with Joey, and roared. Wires and tubes hung off of his back and dragged along the floor, leaving pools and trails of ink. There's no way he pulled those pipes out himself. Something had forced them off of the wall.

Henry's eyes widened in horror. "W-what is that?!"

"A problem," Joey growled.

The Projectionist roared and Henry was already running, not checking to see if Joey was behind him. Before he got very far, Joey grabbed him and shoved the both of them into a back office, locking the door. Slams and thumps pounded on the other side as the monster assaulted the door, but Joey was more angry than fearful.

"That damn Allison," he growled under his breath, fiddling about in his suit pocket for something.

"J-Joey, what is that thing?!" Henry asked again. "That's NOT a character we made..."

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to," Joey responded, and pulled out a small box. Henry was about to ask what it was, but another loud thump sent the door creaking on its hinges, and Henry pressed himself as far to the back wall as he could.

Joey did something with the box and then put it back in his pocket. He stared at the creaking door with his arms crossed. "Pull yourself together, Henry. You're making a fool of yourself."

Henry blinked at him. How could Joey always remain so cool, so composed? He even had the cigar still hanging out of his mouth.

With one last loud crack, the door splintered open at the top, and the Projectionist thrust his arms through, clawing wildly at them. Joey's eyes narrowed, and for just a moment, the creature hesitated.

Before their eyes, the creature was jerked out of the doorway and across the hall by a blur of movement. It screamed and hissed, wild sounds that made Henry's skin crawl. He cautiously got closer to the hole, looking through to see Bendy slam his fist into the side of the Projectionist.

Joey opened the door as the Projectionist screeched and clawed at Bendy, who seemed to get more angry than injured. The ridges on his back shook, and for a moment, Henry thought he saw his whole form shift and change, like something growing and pulsing. But then, Joey raised his hand.

"Finish him off please. Then you know what to do."

Bendy's smile shook, and he lashed out, grabbing the Projectionist's flickering head in his hands and pulling. There was a sickening snapping and popping sound, the beast roared and screamed, clawing at his hands, but then with a crack, the head came loose into Bendy's hands and the body slumped down to the floor. Bendy hoisted the head and body of the creature under his arms and then stalked off down the hall, disappearing into a wall without a trace. It was over as quickly as it had begun, lasting no more than a few minutes. Bendy only paused to look at Henry over his shoulder, but then he was gone.

They heard a choked noise from around the corner, and turn to see Allison. She was at the end of the hall, covering his mouth in horror at the display. Tom was beside her, and he locked eyes with Joey. He grabbed Allison's arm, and only then did she seem to notice the two of them standing there.

Joey scowled. "_You._"

Allison's fingers curled around her crowbar. "What did you do to Norman?"

"Norman?!" Henry said. "That...that was Norman? Norman Polk?"

"You're the one who let him out," Joey growled, walking over to Allison.

"You're the one who made him a monster," she retorted. Joey stopped a few feet in front of her, looking from her to the Boris beside her. His brow furrowed for a moment, but then he chuckled.

"I wondered where Tom had wandered off to. I thought maybe he was dead," Joey said. He looked over at Tom, who winced and avoided eye contact. He curled his hands into fists to stop himself from trembling.

Why did it have to be so hard to even stand up to Joey? He hated it. He hated this body that forced him to cower before his false creator. He hated it, he hated him, but he couldn't bring himself to so much as meet his eyes. His mind and body was screaming to obey Joey, to smile at him like he did during the day, to act like some sick little lost puppy, and he hated it, he hated that his heart automatically filled with admiration when he wanted it to fill with anger, with hate, for everything this man and monster had done to him and Allison and-

Then he felt Allison take his hand. Nothing more, just a small movement. And there was his strength.

His metal arm reacted in a way the rest of his body wouldn't, grabbing Joey by the shirt and hoisting him up in the air.

Joey's mouth opened in shock. Half of Tom was still shaking, but the metal arm had Tom's mind through and through, and its grip was firm and furious. Allison took a step forward with the crowbar. "You're going to fix this. You're going to fix Tom. You're going to let Henry go. And you're going to shut this park down once and for all."

Joey started to reach into his pocket, and Henry grabbed his arm from behind. Joey's eyes widened.

"Don't let him pull out a small box," Henry said. "He used it to call Bendy earlier. I think it might be a GENT machine."

"Really?" Allison said. "Take the box, Henry."

Henry grabbed the box from Joey's pocket and handed it to Allison. She shook her head. "Keep it for now." He nodded and pocketed the box. Allison nodded to Tom, who let Joey go roughly. Joey composed himself, brushing off his suit jacket.

"Now. Start talking."

"We're going to need to go to my office," Joey said. Allison narrowed her eyes, but Joey lifted his hands up. "All the paperwork and materials I need to explain the situation are in my office."

"And fix Tom?" Allison said.

"You're so sure that's possible?" Joey asked.

"You better hope it is," she answered lowly. A bead of sweat dripped down Joey's forehead, and he nodded.

"Right this way then."

They followed Joey to his office, Allison keeping the crowbar tightly in her grasp. Henry walked behind her, trying to find the words to say. Seeing both Allison and Tom like this, leading Joey, finally the ones in control of the situation, gave him a hope he was almost afraid of. But did they trust him? Did they know the truth? Seeing him working with Joey was probably enough to make him as much a prisoner as Joey. He only needed a few minutes to explain himself to her, to explain the situation.

"Allison, I'm sor-"

"Don't," she interrupted. His mouth snapped shut. She glanced back at him over her shoulder and smiled. "You have nothing to apologize for, Henry."

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, and smiled back.

Maybe things really were going to be okay.

They arrived at Joey's office, and he unlocked the door to lead them inside. The room was familiar, but still sent shivers down Allison's spine. The last time she was in here, Bendy had attacked her. She wasn't sure how much time she had before Bendy came back, but she hoped it was enough to get Joey to listen to what they had to say. And tell them what they wanted to know. She was never the violent type before, but after everything that he'd done, she wasn't afraid to use this crowbar for more than escaping out of sewage drains. Joey fiddled around at his desk, and Allison took the moment to check on Tom. "You okay?"

He nodded, looking tired, but otherwise alright. Joey started setting papers down on the desk, some of them familiar. The missing person papers. Allison knew them well. He kept moving around, unlocking drawers, and Allison stepped forward to look over what he'd already set out. She set the crowbar aside.

"These date back to when the park first opened," she said, handing a few to Henry. "Why are you showing us these?"

"You need to understand what this park is for," Joey murmured, closing one last drawer.

"I don't really care what this park is for," Allison said, throwing the papers across the desk at him. They hit his chest and flew in different directions before floating to the floor. "I just want you to fix this mess. Fix Tom. And let us go."

"I can't let you go," Joey said. "I can't shut down this park. You don't understand what that would do this place."

Allison reached for the crowbar. "I don't really need your permission anymore. Tell me how to fix Tom. We'll go from there. You're not in charge anymore, Joey. Your lap dog Bendy is gone. Alice Angel is gone. And you're going to lose your Boris too. I'm shutting this whole place down."

"Nothing I say will convince you that this park isn't evil, will it?" Joey asked her.

How could he ask her such a question? Was he really so deluded to believe that this place wasn't so bad, wasn't a terrible nightmare that swallowed people whole? She didn't think that Joey was this delusional, but his still calm demeanor was starting to tick her off. He was done. This whole park was done. Even after she got Tom back, she wasn't going to stop. She was going to burn this whole place to the ground and put an end to Bendyland, and she was going to start with its delusional creator.

"No," she answered. "Not after everything I've seen. Not after so many people have been killed by your hands. This whole place is over."

Joey sighed. He looked down at the papers that had fallen to the desk and smiled sadly. He opened up one last drawer in his desk and grabbed its sole item. He closed the drawer and peered at the item in his hands. "What a shame."

A gunshot echoed through the room.

Allison's eyes widened. He'd moved so quick, she'd barely had time to react or notice. The gun smoked slightly in Joey's hands, and the echoes of the shot were still ringing in her ears.

No. The ringing sound was something else. The whole world was ringing. She couldn't hear anything over the deafening sound.

Her legs went out from under her before she felt the pain. Before she looked down to see the blood pooling out of her stomach and staining her shirt and hands. The ringing just kept going, spinning around in her ears as the world grew fuzzy. She fell back and hit the ground.

"ALLISON!" Henry screamed. "Joey, what did you do?!"

Joey turned the gun toward Henry. "I need you just how you are, Henry. I can't shoot you. But I can find another angel if I need to."

Henry looked over to Allison, going to rush to her side, but Tom was already there. His eyes shook almost as much as his hands as he scooped Allison into his arms, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He threw his head back, mouth open in a scream that nobody could hear, and Henry felt his heart nearly stop as Allison bled onto Joey's office floor.

A distant roar shook the room, dust and dirt spraying down over the tops of their heads. It hadn't come from Tom.

"You all have no idea what you're doing by trying to disrupt this place," Joey said, his eyes nervously scanning the ceiling. His whole body was tensed, and he swallowed, putting the gun away and wringing his shaky hands. He was pale. He adjusted his tie and loosened it to breathe.

"Enlighten us then," Henry said, his voice cracking. He wanted to run, wanted to call for help, call and ambulance, but once again, all the power was in Joey's hands. "Because right now, this place seems like nothing but a hell that you've created and are profiting from." Henry marched up to Joey, his hands curled into fists. "The only way you're accomplishing your dream is by getting other people _killed!_" Henry swung hard, hitting Joey in the jaw and sending him falling back over his desk. Joey groaned, slowly prying himself off of the ground while Henry stared down at his fist in disbelief. Right as he went to look back up at Joey, he saw a fist come and sack him in the gut. Henry's vision went black and pain rocketed up his body and sent him to his knees.

Joey trembled above him, straightening his suit and wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth.

"You're all a bunch of damn fools," Joey said. "I've given you a choice. I'm giving all of you a choice. I don't think any of you understand just who runs this place. I'm holding all of the cards, and I have from the beginning. Did you hope there'd be some kind of rebellion? That you'd magically overthrow me and burn this whole park to the ground? You have no idea what's going on here. You have no idea the sacrifices I've had to make for this."

"You're a monster," Henry wheezed, clutching at his stomach. "What the hell's happened to you..."

"I'm not a monster," Joey said plainly. "Monsters enjoy what they do. They relish the pain. I don't relish this. I don't enjoy any of this. But I will have control of this park. I have to keep the demon appeased."

"Keep the...what?" Henry asked.

"...do you really think this is all for my benefit anymore, Henry? Do you really think _this _was my dream?" Joey asked. He gestured around him, pausing at the posters of smiling cartoons on the walls, and brushing passed Allison's limp form on the ground, and Tom bending over her. "I started this. I admit that. But I'm man enough to stand my ground and take control of the consequences of my actions, to prevent it from spiraling out of control."

Henry tried to rise back up to his feet, but only fell back down again. "So...so what? You expect us to believe that all this is for the greater good? Not just for profit?"

Joey's voice grew quiet. "No, Henry. It's not for profit. I don't give a damn how much money I make. This whole park is to contain my one, big, mistake. OUR big mistake. You think those bars are to keep people out? To keep the masses and brats like you away? No. It's to make sure the demon I brought to life stays _in_."

"That can't be true," Henry said. "There's no way. That's just an excuse you're making for yourself."

"You think I'm the one who's been kidnapping innocent people? The one who wants to turn innocent people into monsters and cartoons and keep watch over them as they meander around the park? To constantly watch an abomination that has to be appeased at any cost?" Joey said. "The ink machine brought more into this world than you can possibly imagine. And if I don't keep him here, in this park, there's no telling what he's capable of. If I don't keep Bendy and GENT appeased, then this whole place will come crumbling down and those monsters will be free to go wherever I want. This isn't about money. This isn't about my dream. My dream died a long time ago, when I watched that abomination rise up from the ink and take the form of a monster. It died when people started going missing, only for me to find a whole city beneath this park, beneath the walkways, a whole world I've had to build underground for people trapped in the ink because of what I created."

Joey took a shaky breath. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigar, but, finding none, sat down on his desk and ran a hand through his hair instead.

"You think the man who created hell gets a pass from it? No. I may be the gatekeeper, but I'm just as much a prisoner here as you all are."

"That doesn't mean you have to go to these lengths!" Henry shouted, finally rising to his feet. "To kill people...to trick and deceive people and turn them into monsters! You shot Allison! You _shot_ her! You _killed_ her!"

"She's not dead yet," Joey said plainly. "Tom still has a choice to make."

"What choice?" Henry asked warily, and turned to look back at Allison and Tom. His eyes widened, seeing nothing but a pool of blood where they used to be. Joey loosened his tie and then threw it on his desk, moving to put his head in his hands.

"It seems he's made his choice."

* * *

"T...om...?" Allison whispered, struggling to keep her eyes opened. She was being carried, swept up in his arms and sprints. "Wh...what..." His face was twisted. Determined. But so scared. She'd never seen him this scared before. She couldn't read what he was thinking. She wanted to reach up and touch his cheek, try to pretend it was still his face, still that frame she was so used to, pretend in her dying that it was really him. Every step he took while carrying her hurt, but she didn't even have the strength to protest.

He didn't look down at her. Didn't stop as he kept running. He knew where he was going. They all did, once they turned. An invisible string pulling at their chests, telling them what direction to go. He rounded another corner, stumbling to keep from dropping her. Just hold on a little longer, Allison. Just a little longer. They were almost there.

There it was. Standing before him, large and humming with life.

Bendy was there too. Waiting. He grinned beside the ink machine. Almost mocking him. Knowing full well what Tom intended to do, he made no move to stop him. Tom felt the ink and the darkness swarm around Bendy and press against the walls. He felt it in his body, in the way the ink shifted and distorted around him, thoughts and whispers pulling at his mind. In a way, he really was their god. Something they were drawn to. Their creator. The life-bringer and executioner all rolled into one. If Joey instinctively filled him with false admiration, Bendy filled him with pure primordial fear.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry for what he was about to do. He wanted to beg for her forgiveness. Tell her how much he loved her. How much he wished things were different. But the demon had taken that away from him too. All it did was take and take and _take._

It wasn't going to take Allison's life.

Allison, drifting in and out of cold consciousness, felt her grip on Tom slipping. Was she dying? Was this it? It was darker here. Was something growling in the corner? She hoped Tom was safe...maybe he'd taken her somewhere quiet...somewhere safe where it could be just the two of them. Her chest still hurt. It hurt to breathe and speak. Were her lungs filling with blood? This wasn't what she wanted. Why was she being punished for just wanting to be with Tom? And why had she wanted to be with Tom so much?

The answer was so simple now. Why hadn't she told him sooner? Why did they dance around each other, the other pretending they didn't know how they really felt, pretending that their feelings were just simple fleeting things?

Tom hesitated, steps in front of the machine. He lingered. He'd thought his mind made up. But here he was, trembling in front of the open chasm of the ink machine.

He looked down at her. Her eyes were bleary, far-away, already gone, and she was growing cold. But she was smiling. For him. Just for him. To keep his spirits alive. It didn't seem forced. Was she really happy? There were tears in her eyes. She met his again, and her smile widened.

"Love you..."

Tom stepped forward and threw Allison into the ink machine.

* * *

**Welcome to Bendyland will return~**

**(Please check out the poll and vote whether or not you think I should continue the story here or make a separate Book 2!)**

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**Thanks for your patience everyone! This chapter is out and I'm super happy with it. More will come, I promise, but I am going to take a break for a few months. On top of wanting to write and plan the next part out...I'm getting married! I'm going to be quite busy for a while, so I want to dedicate all of my focus on my life right now before continuing Welcome to Bendyland. Thank you all for reading! I'm so excited to write more with this story, and I'll be sure to let you know when I'm updating the next part or if I make a new book.**

**Thank you for all of your continued support through the first part of this story. I hope you're all looking forward to what comes next, and sorry for leaving you all on a cliffhanger. As a reader, I hate cliffhangers, but as a writer, I love them. There's so much more I have in store, so I hope you'll stick around and see what happens next for everyone.**

**For updates, be sure to follow me on Instagram at auzeri_girl_cosplay. I don't post often, and I post about my fanfictions even less, but I'll be sure to post updates there about whether or not the story will be updated soon. (Plus I may or may not have Allison cosplay plans in my future)**


	20. Chapter 20: Come Meet Alice Angel!

**Part II Chapter 1: Come Meet Alice Angel!**

* * *

_**Five Years Later**_

A drumroll filled the room, cresting as spotlights swept over the stage and landed on a singular spot on the curtain.

"Ladies and gentleman," a pre-recorded voice boomed over speakers. "The moment you've all been waiting for has finally arrived! Her shows are sold out every day, but you lucky folks got in, and we plan to make your time here as enjoyable as possible! Please note our emergency exits behind you, and please remember to be respectful to our little angel. Now, please put your hands together for the one, the only, Alice Angel!"

The thick curtains swung open as the sound of trumpets and applause filled the packed auditorium. A long figure stepped forward from the shadows of the stage into the bright spotlight. She felt its warmth hit her face, as bright as the sun, blurring out the gawking faces of those who gazed up at her.

Every since Joey had unveiled his new and improved Alice Angel, park attendance had surged. At first, it was just general curiosity. The park had already swept the nation off its feet with its lifelike cartoons. Still, even twenty years later, nobody could figure out just how Joey Drew had done it. Some people still thought they were people in costumes, but that didn't explain the eyes as dark and empty as night, or their black and white complexion painted on like ink. No, people were starting to wonder if maybe they were real, and this new Alice was the perfect example. Joey had somehow perfected his already mysterious craft and seemed to have created the perfect woman.

Alice smiled and stepped up to the mic with a giggle. "Hiya everyone! Thanks for stopping by today!"

Men, women, and children cheered at her every movement.

"Oh gosh, it sure makes my heart so happy to see so many smiling faces all coming to see little ole' me!" she said.

"WE LOVE YOU ALICE!" someone shouted from the back, and Alice curtsied.

"And I love you all too, just like an angel should! Now let's all sing together for this first song, that I'm sure you know the lyrics to!" Alice started to sing, people following her every note as it rose and fell, adults and children crowding around to get a better look at her, to wonder if she really was real. She looked real. She cast a shadow where she walked, her lips matched the sounds broadcast around the room perfectly, and those deep black eyes followed every quick movement and jumbled frame as people surged closer. This was a rowdy crowd, and a few security guards hovered on the edges of the stage. Someone had tried running on stage once, some drunk patron trying to grab at her. They didn't want another incident like that happening, it had been quite the mess to clean up, so the guards were a necessary precaution. Joey took more precautions than ever before.

It didn't help that Joey built in a bar to her shows. Parents wanted to have something to drink while their children were entertained, but men had started to show up without kids. No, people were coming just to see her, and they chased down their doubts and questions about what she really was with a glass of whisky and a smile. It didn't matter what she was. In their eyes, she was an angel straight from heaven, the epitome of perfection. A pretty face with a prettier voice.

What more could they ask for?

One man sat at the back of the room, close to the bar and far from the stage, but he could still see her. Her could still see her raven black hair and bright smile. The way she danced and sang and moved like she'd just walked off a television screen. The rest of the world seemed too colorful around her, too bright. For her, monotone hues were all that were needed, and everything else was just unnecessary chaos. He swirled his half-empty glass, keeping his gaze either there or at her. It depended on his mood.

"Another glass, sir?" the bartender asked. He asked that often. Guess he knew an easy prize when he saw one.

The man shook his head. "Not today."

"Understood sir, let me know if there's anything you need."

The bartender left him alone soon as song after song played out through the theater, her voice bouncing around from one corner to the next. People crowded to the bar to get drinks, mostly watered down versions of whatever Joey Drew could find on sale, but slap a fancy cartoon logo on them and people would pay double the prize for cheap booze. He'd even heard one man, who'd clearly had too much already, slurring something about buying a drink for "the one and only Alice Angel!"

Idiot. She didn't drink. Didn't eat either.

The songs kept playing, and he kept staring at the bottom of his glass, feeling her songs spin around in his mind like a record player. They were all familiar. He knew he should get up, get back to work before the crowds of people surged out of the auditorium once the show was finished, but today, he'd lost track of time somewhere at the bottom of the glass. Before he knew it, there was already hardly anybody left in the big empty room.

"Hello there!"

He looked up from his drink. There she was. Standing in front of him. Had he waited this long on purpose, wishing she'd come up and talk to him? He honestly didn't know.

Alice smiled and giggled. "Hello there mister! You come to my shows just about every day, don't ya? Always sittin' in this one spot over here and watchin' me! You must be a big fan!"

He smiled. "...yeah."

"Well, if I'm gonna be seeing you so often, I figure we might as introduce ourselves!" Alice curtsied. "As you probably already know, I'm Alice Angel!" She outstretched her gloved hand with a bright smile. Her smile could light up a room. It often did.

Did that smile mean she was happy?

He took her hand and shook it. It was cold. Felt like plastic. He knew the feeling well. He'd wore it himself once.

"Tom," he said softly. "My name's Tom."

"Thanks for always coming out and supporting the show, Tom! I gotta get going now, but it's nice to meet you!" She gave a wave and then walked away, laughing as a few kids came up to her to chat. She spun and sang with them, happy as could be. Blissfully ignorant.

Tom threw back the last of his drink. It hit the back of his throat and burned, but he relished the pain and numbness that followed.

"Yeah. Nice to meet you."

* * *

_How many years had it been since that day? Since he'd done such an awful thing to the love of his life. Since he'd thrown Allison into the ink machine. He'd never forget. It was a memory that haunted him. A ghost clutching at his chest._

"So. You made your choice."

Tom looked up at Joey, holding Allison in his cartoonish arms. Could he still call her Allison? She didn't look like his Allison. Not anymore. This twisted feeling in his chest. Was it regret? Was she even breathing anymore like this? With horns and a halo and...oh God, he'd cursed her to be just like him, but at least she was alive, at least she wasn't dead and bleeding on the ground anymore. No...no more blood. Just ink.

He felt like he might throw up.

"I'll take it from here," Joey said, reaching down for Allison.

Tom snarled and pulled his muzzle back like an animal, a soundless threat. He pulled her away from him, but Joey didn't flinch.

"We have to make sure this form sticks. I have no reason to hurt her now. You know that better than anyone."

What else could he do? Tom looked down at Allison. At Alice. He handed her over. Joey slung her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a feather. Bendy chittered behind the two of them, his head and fingers twitching.

"...you know...I think you deserve a reward for doing the deed for me," Joey said. "Bendy."

Tom's eyes widened as Bendy lashed out. There was a tearing. A ripping. He couldn't see, ink covered his vision, but he could hear it all around him, voices screaming and pulling at his mind, dragging something away, pulling something away. He wanted to scream, it hurt like fire and ice and hot steel and his head and heart felt like they might burst. Something torn from him inch by inch and skin by skin and-

"Hack! A-Ack..." Tom broke down into coughs, clutching at his throat and sucking in gulpfulls of air as he collapsed to the ground. "Ah...hah...hah..."

He looked down at his hands. One still mechanical. The other, human.

Human?

He shakily reached up to his mouth. His face. His neck.

Human.

"I...I'm..."

Bendy growled behind him. Tom turned around, his eyes widening in fear. Bendy held a blob of ink and black darkness in his hands, opening his mouth wide and swallowing it whole. He trembled, horns elongating, teeth growing sharper, hands turning to claws as his form morphed.

"No, Bendy," Joey said sternly. "That's enough."

Bendy hissed, but then went back to his usual form. A few moments later, he left, walking into the wall and disappearing.

Joey walked over to Tom. "...I should just kill you. But Sinclair says the best way to keep the ink machine working is to keep the guy who helped build it alive. I'm smart enough to know you won't just blindly go back to entertaining guests during the daytime. So congratulations, Tom. You've just been given your humanity back."

"You...YOU!" Tom stumbled to his feet and took a weak swing at Joey. It didn't even come close to hitting him. "You...you bastard! You could turn us back this whole time, you-"

Joey raised his hand. "Save your words. I don't really care what you have to say. Just stay in line."

"Why the hell do you think I'd listen to a word you have to say? That I'll help you with any of this?" Tom snapped back.

"Did you forget what you just did?" Joey gestured to Alice. To Allison.

Tom froze.

"You don't really know the gravity of the situation, do you?" Joey said. "Maybe if you'd tossed her in a few days ago, things would be different. But Sinclair already made his adjustments."

"What...what'd you do to her?" Tom asked, his voice cracking. "What _adjustments_, Joey?"

"I didn't do anything. You're the one who tossed her in. Made my job a hell of a lot easier. Just remember that this was all your choice. Stick around, maybe someday I'll turn her back to normal if you behave," Joey said, and walked out of the room. "I'm just glad I don't have a defective angel this time."

Tom sank to his knees. There was a ringing in his ears. His whole body hurt with a pain that wasn't normal, like he'd just been shoved through a small hole and then forced back into a mold, like dough or clay. It was awful. But he was human. He'd never even dreamed such a thing would be possible for him. He'd thought maybe he'd be happier. But all he felt was pain and guilt.

_"Allison...I'm so sorry..."_

* * *

Tom gasped, shooting out of bed with a jolt and clutching at his chest. Cheese yowled and hopped off of him in surprise, darting under the bed. He looked around the room and then sighed, exhaling slowly. He was home. He wasn't at the studio. He was back home.

Waking up to just another version of the same nightmare. The same memories.

He groaned and stepped out of bed, crouching down to peer at Cheese underneath the bed. "Sorry bud. I'll get you some extra treats." He stood back up and made his way over to the kitchen, stepping over crumpled clothes and newspapers on the floor. He really should clean it up. It was unsightly. And certainly not the best place for Cheese to live, but where else was Allison's cat supposed to go? He got out the cat's food bowl and poured him a few handfuls of food and topped it off with a few treats.

Cheese, hearing the bag rustling, emerged from under the bed and stood expectantly at Tom's feet. Tom sneezed.

And of course, he was allergic to cats.

"Yeah yeah, now you wanna be friends with me again. You seem to like this new food a lot. Guess I better start getting this brand from now on. You have expensive taste," he muttered, setting the bowl down. Cheese went to work immediately, attacking the food while Tom crossed the room and plopped down in a recliner. His day off.

He flicked on the TV. Nothing special. Coupla movies he'd already seen. News came on in a bit, but he wasn't really in the mood to watch that either.

Crossword puzzles. Actual puzzles. A book or two. Finally cleaning up the room and throwing some clothes in the washer. Fixing the sink for the third time this week. It wasn't broke, but it could use a fix, a tighten, something to keep his hands and mind busy. Maybe he could work on his car a bit more. Or maybe he'd see if the washer could use a fix or two once it was finished running his clothes.

He looked up at the clock. His day off and he'd already gotten a lot done, and it was...

Only 1:30 PM.

Great.

He sighed and turned to the fridge. He chewed his bottom lip as he stared at it, not opening it, not yet. It was too early for drinks, and he wasn't going to drink early. He could wait a bit longer. But he was thirsty from working all morning. He deserved a drink. Right? Just a little one. That's all, just a little, and he'd drink water for the rest of the day. The rest of the afternoon, until dinner.

He opened up the fridge, but his phone ringing jarred him from his thoughts. He closed the fridge and picked up the phone.

"This is Tom."

"Hey Tom. What are you doing today?" Henry asked.

Tom felt his mouth twitch up into a small smile. "Oh. You know. Fixin' up the house here and there. Keepin' busy. Just about to take a break."

"What kind of break?"

Tom's smile fell.

"Just a small one."

"Do you need me to come down again?"

"Henry, I'm fine," Tom snapped, then immediately sighed. "I'm...I'm fine. Really. I was just gonna have one little drink."

Henry was quiet on the other end.

Tom didn't blame him for worrying. He appreciated it, even if it was damn annoying sometimes. He deserved it though. Henry called him often, but always at least once on his days off. Especially after one day he called, and Tom didn't answer. Henry musta gotten worried, because, according to Henry, he'd come over to find Tom passed out on the floor, surrounded in empty bottles.

He didn't remember much of it himself. But Henry took him to the hospital. Got him checked up, taken care of, and scolded by a doctor before he sent him home.

He'd been trying to stop drinking since then. Honest, he had. But it was so damn hard when he ran out of things to do, things to keep his mind from thinking about the park, about what happened, about _her_, and drinking until he didn't have to think about anything was just...

Easier.

"...there's still a chance she'll remember you, Tom."

Tom swallowed and closed his eyes.

"Joey fixed the machine. She ain't gonna remember. Even after dark, she just...she just stays like that. Stays the same. Like nothing is different. None of them change anymore. She doesn't remember me. She doesn't even remember herself."

More silence. More damn silence.

Tom took another deep breath and put his pride aside. "Actually Henry, if you uh...if you and Linda aren't doing anything, I wouldn't mind...well..."

"We're going to the park today. Just about to leave now actually, I promised Audrey I'd take her. I know we both see enough of that place as is, but if you'd like to come with us, have some company, you're more than welcome."

Tom grimaced. Going back to the park. On his day off. Is that really something he wanted to do? He looked over at the fridge.

No. He didn't really want to do that. But he wanted to be alone even less.

"I'll meet you at the entrance at 2:30."

* * *

Audrey laughed and ran up to Tom. Tom smiled and picked her up.

"Uncle Tom, Uncle Tom!" she said.

"Hey there kiddo!" Tom said, smiling widely. Her curly black hair, the spitting image of her mother's, bounced on her shoulders. "Excited to see Bendyland today?"

"Yes yes yes!" she said quickly.

"She's just been going on and on about seeing Bendy," Linda said with a laugh. "I swear, those two are inseparable."

"Well, when her father is both of their creators, it just goes to show," Tom said with a chuckle, setting Audrey down.

Henry shot Tom a look, but Tom just shrugged.

"It's kinda true."

"Yeah yeah."

"Can we go in yet, Mommy? Please please pleaaaaase?" Audrey said, pulling on her mother's sleeve.

Linda laughed and showed the security guard her ID, who immediately ushered her in. Lifetime tickets for both her and Audrey. Henry and Tom got in free. They did work there, after all.

Audrey immediately ran forward. The crowds had mostly died down from the entrance since most people had already entered and made there way through most of the park by this point. Audrey bounced on her heels, peering around the park. She'd been going here since she could walk. Tom remembered when Henry tried to stop her and Linda from going to the park. But no excuses short of the truth would work, and Henry wouldn't tell them the truth. Tom didn't blame him.

"Don't go too far," Henry said. "Wait for us."

"I'm not going far!" she called back, her eyes lighting up when she saw a familiar form dancing in the middle of a crowd of people. "BENDY!"

The little inky demon saw her and stopped. Immediately, his whole face lit up and he pushed through the crowd of people and raced toward Audrey. They were nearly the same height, and Audrey giggled as the silent demon grabbed her into a hug, spinning her around with the strength only a cartoon could possess. He let her go and started to dance for her, walking around her in circles and doing all of his usual tricks. Audrey laughed and clapped, dancing with him around and around.

Linda walked up to the two of them, but Henry stood back and frowned.

"Pretty inseparable," Tom whispered. "Aren't you worried about...?"

"Of course I am," Henry answered back. "But what can I do, Tom? Joey introduced them. And now, he's all Audrey talks about. And Bendy's clearly taken a liking to her, too."

"It's dangerous," Tom growled.

"Got any suggestions?" Henry shot back. "You know as well as I do that we're both powerless. For now, all I can do is make sure that Audrey is never alone with him. When she's older, I'll explain everything to her."

"Linda too?"

Henry frowned. "That's not fair, Tom."

"You need to tell her the truth," Tom said. "She deserves to know. You told me you were going to tell her months ago. And yet here she is. I refuse to believe she'd still bring Audrey here if you told her the truth of what really goes on after dark."

"We'll talk later," Henry said, and walked over to his family.

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets. Maybe he'd been too harsh. Maybe he'd pushed Henry too far again. But Henry was making all the same mistakes he'd made years ago. He didn't want to see Henry lose his family because he was too scared to speak up. By the time he finds the right words, it might already be too late.

"Mommy, can we go see Alice Angel?! Pleeeeease?" Audrey begged.

Tom flinched.

Linda noticed Tom flinch, but didn't say anything. She knew there were lies and secrets. She'd grilled Tom just as much as she'd grilled Henry. But neither of them were giving anything up.

"Sure sweetie, but you have to say goodbye to Bendy first, okay?"

Audrey pouted and turned to Bendy. "We're gonna go see Alice. But then I'll come play with you some more, okay Bendy?"

Bendy nodded his head up and down quickly, and Audrey giggled. As the rest of the family headed off toward Alice's stage, Tom lingered. Bendy paused too, looking up at him. He could have swore that innocent little smile stretched even wider when he looked up at Tom. Taunting him.

"You leave that little girl alone," Tom growled. "You hear me? You leave her alone, you freak."

Bendy blinked at him, otherwise unmoving, and Tom pushed passed him to follow after the others. He felt Bendy's gaze on him the whole way back, and couldn't help but shiver.

* * *

Deep below the studio, another actor stirred on his stage, humming distorted versions of familiar tunes. His hands moved effortlessly across the paper, scratching and splotching new melodies that, despite their sloppy appearance, flowed with the same elegance and grace as ever. He was, after all, a genius. A talented genius. He would never stop writing music. And it was easy to write music. Even now.

Sammy hummed another note, testing a few of the tunes on his lips before making some adjustments.

Almost. He'd almost made the perfect song for her. A new song for his angel.

It was funny, really. After his precious Susie had died and this new perfect angel had taken her place, he'd started to hear Susie's voice all around him. She whispered new melodies and lyrics in his ear, her hands guided his pen across the page. It was like a dream. Every time he wrote music, he could feel her near him. The room around him was covered wall to floor with pages of music, a never-ending endless symphony he'd been constructing for years, all for her, all for his precious angel.

Sammy felt a giggle rise up in his throat. "Almost there, almost finished with this song...then I'll offer it to my savior, my angel..."

This song would set him free. _She_ would set him free. He knew it, he just knew it. Where Bendy had failed him, she would succeed. He just needed her to sing it. He just needed to get his hands on her.

He set down his pen and strode across the room. Candlelight flickered as he passed, casting light on his distorted appearance. He'd barely changed over the years. Still half a man and half a monster. But that was just another gift, wasn't it? A distorted reward this world had bestowed upon him for getting in too deep. But Sammy wasn't nearly done. He was intent on going deeper, far below the surface. All the way to the bottom of this world.

He finished crossing the room, a good ten feet or so over the river below, constructed from wood and pipes that had fallen down in disrepair. Sammy's room, his true sanctuary, looked out over his audience, a hoard of lost ones moaning and clawing at the edges of an inky river. Their hands and glowing eyes all reached out, trying to scramble out of the pit they'd been thrown into. Bars covered the top, a feeble well of lost souls that was nearly overflowing.

**"I wanna go home..."**

**"Let us leave!"**

**"I don't...I don't wanna work here anymore..."**

**"I wanna go home, I wanna go home, let me go home, I'm just a guest..."**

Sammy leaned against the wooden railing he'd built, the only thing separating him from the sea of restless souls. They grew by the day. There were easily three hundred of them, each losing their mind more and more by the day, growing more and more distorted with every inky puddle they dared to step foot in. Did Joey Drew know what was happening down here? Did he know that Bendy was claiming more and more souls, like a twisted collection? Not just Bendy, though. No. There was more going on behind the scenes. Sammy still kept all those old audiotapes. He knew the secrets that not just Joey, but GENT, was keeping behind the scenes. But the next act would be coming up soon, and everyone would have to take their places. How would it end, he wondered? A glorious tragedy, ending in nothing but tears and heartbreak? A riveting adventure, a heroic tale sung throughout the ages as an inspiration for future warriors?

Or maybe something new?

"Hehehe...I do...I know everything...just like I know who will set us free...we just have to be a little more patient." Sammy grinned down at the people squirming below in the prison. Their screams were just another melody he had to write. Another beautiful tune just waiting to be created.

Sammy was nothing if not patient.

* * *

**The stage is set. The actors are all in place. The show must go on.**

**I'm back! Well, soon I'll be back. I'm getting married in just a few days! But I've had this chapter written out for a while and wanted to go ahead and post it. And it's super good to be back! I've been thinking about this story a lot and where I want to go with it from here, and I think I've got a solid game plan for what comes next! For those of you returning from my previous story, welcome back, thanks for following! **

**I decided to go ahead and continue the old story here instead of creating a new story, because I actually got a lot of new followers to this story in the few months I've been on hiatus! It's been really encouraging seeing new people come in and like my story, so I'm happily going to continue the story here!**

**Though I will say, this is definitively "Act 2." If it were to have a name, I guess it would problem be...**

**Return to Bendyland.**


	21. Chapter 21: An Angel After Dark

**Part II Chapter 2: An Angel After Dark**

* * *

By the time they reached Alice's stage, there was standing room only. Henry hoisted Audrey up onto his shoulders, letting her look out onto the stage from over everyone else's heads.

Tom was grateful so many people were blocking his view. He eyes the bar in the corner, wondering if Henry would notice if he slipped away, but Linda, ever the mind-reader, stepped on the other side of Tom and grinned up at him. "Don't you just love these songs, Tom? Henry tells me you come to nearly all of Alice's shows!"

Tom gave a shaky grin. "Well, I was friends with her old voice actress."

"Which one, Susie? Or was it...Allison! That's right, I remember her!" Linda said. "She came to our house once, you know. It was pouring rain outside and the poor girl didn't even have an umbrella to her name. She seemed rather frightened, and Lord knows I was confused. I mean, a strange girl shows up asking for my husband? It was quite odd. But she's a genuine girl, I could tell. Whatever happened to her? Henry says she found other work, but wouldn't say where."

Tom swallowed. The lump in his throat was tight. Dammit. He really wanted a drink. He wished Henry was paying attention and could back him up. But he could barely hear anything over the noise of Audrey cheering and singing along happily to the tunes on stage.

"She, uh...s-she found more work. On stage. You know? More than voice acting," Tom said.

Linda breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh that's a relief. She came in so worried that day to our house I...I have to admit, I thought maybe she was in some sort of trouble." Linda frowned. "I love my husband very much. But trouble seems to follow him like a shadow, and if it isn't following him, he's helping it along with the best intentions. And that girl wasn't trouble. But she seemed very much to be chasing it."

"She never knew when to quit, that's for sure," Tom said softly.

Could Linda tell? Could he hear it, in Alice's voice? The woman that she'd met, briefly, storming up to their house in the rain, bringing in water and thunder and danger with every stride? Tom heard it. It pierced his heart with every note, a weight that pulled him down and drowned him, yet he still kept coming back, still kept coming to hear the voice that was only barely hers anymore. He didn't want that voice to sing, he didn't want her to be up on that stage anymore not knowing who she was. He wanted that voice to be back to normal, full of life, raising in pitch when she was angry and falling lower when she was about to cry. He wanted to hear it full of earnest laughter, not fake, staged laughter geared toward an oblivious crowd. He wanted her to say his name again. Not as Alice. As Allison. He wanted to hear her say his name and know who he was, to see her eyes fill with remembrance, to-

"Tom? Tom, are you alright?"

Linda's hand on his jarred him abruptly from his thoughts, and Tom flinched. Her eyes were pitying. Worrying.

"I'm fine," he said, trying to give his best fake smile.

Linda raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him, but Audrey called her name and she was pulled elsewhere, to happier things, leaving the troubles behind like she wished her husband often did. Henry was followed by troubles, Allison chased them. And Tom...

Tom was haunted by them.

After the show ended, Audrey stayed to meet with Alice. Henry told Linda that they'd catch up with them later, took Tom, and left the stage.

"Sorry. We could have waited outside the whole time," Henry said, but Tom shook his head.

"It's nothing I haven't willingly seen a million times, Henry."

"I know, but-"

"Henry! So good to see you!"

Tom tensed. He felt bile rise up in the back of his throat. He started walking away before Henry could even try to stop him. In seconds, he was gone. Henry took a deep breath and turned to face Joey.

"Hello Joey," Henry said a little tightly.

"Was that Tom? Haven't seen him in a while. Where'd he run off too? Did you guys get to see Alice's show? She's quite a gal, isn't she?" Joey laughed, but Henry's fake smile just slipped into a thin line.

"That's cruel and you know it," he said softly.

Joey stopped laughing, but didn't stop smiling. "How our new cartoon set coming along?"

"Fine," Henry said. "I sent you the story-board sketches for the next skit. You want Alice and Bendy together in this next episode, right? The Butcher Gang too?"

"Yep, that's right! We've never had this many characters in an episode before, and certainly not an episode this long either. But we've got big plans for this park's grand anniversary, don't we?" Joey said. "Gotta keep the people happy!"

"The people seem pretty happy to me," Henry said, gesturing around the bustling park.

"Perhaps," Joey said. "But our numbers are declining. Even if it's just a little bit, it's too much. We gotta do more to real them in. I want you to stretch out this next episode, Henry."

"Stretch it out?" Henry asked. "It's already fifteen minutes, that's way longer than any cartoon we've attempted before, I'm not sure how much I can-"

"Extend it," Joey said. "We can push your deadlines back a little if we need too, and I'll hire you some extra help for drawing and animating. I want to do something we've never done before."

"And what exactly is that?" Henry said. He hated when Joey wouldn't just skip to the point. There always had to be a buildup, the tension, the imaginary drumroll in his brain.

"We're gonna make a movie," Joey said, his grin stretching wider.

"A...A what? Joey, we've never done anything like that before," Henry stuttered. "A-are you sure we can-"

"A movie is just what this park, what this studio needs right now! An hour long feature length film that can really drive audiences into the theater! They'll crowd over each other just to catch a glimpse of something new!"

"Joey, this is a huge risk, you're asking audiences to stick around for an hour length movie where our main character doesn't even have a voice actor," Henry said. "Not to mention color cartoons are gaining popularity and becoming more regular every year. I really don't think this is a good investment, I-"

"You let me worry about the investments," Joey said, slapping his hand on Henry's shoulder before walking away.

"Joey, I..." Henry sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. There was no use trying to talk Joey out of it. He got an idea in his head, said it was happening, and then it was up to everybody else to scramble and figure out how it was even possible. There were so many ways that something like this should be impossible, but Joey just shrugged it all off and called it his newest and greatest dream or ambition. And to dump all of this on Henry on his day off too...he had his work cut out for him.

Henry looked around the park. It was true that there were fewer people here than there used to be. Every time they built a new ride, attendance would spike for a bit. But people were starting to get bored of the same old characters they'd seen time and time again. But Joey didn't make new characters. Maybe it was the single shred of conscience he had left in him, but Joey knew that if he created a new character, he'd had to create a new toon to walk around the park. And that couldn't happen. That was one more person Joey would have to sacrifice, one more mess he'd have to clean up. Henry knew that's why Joey hadn't asked him to create a new character. It wouldn't be worth the risk. It would be the easiest way to spark interest, get people coming back and excited again, but there were too many things out of his control.

The worst part was that Henry could make more characters for the series. It would be easy. He'd already had a few ideas. But creating new characters terrified him. He hadn't even been willing to sketch out concept art. His hand trembled just thinking about it.

Maybe this movie would help. It was a long shot, and it was going to mean a lot of overtime hours, headaches, and struggle, but Henry could probably pull it off.

"Daddy! Alice Angel said I was cute!" Audrey said, bounding out of the stage and breaking Henry from his thoughts.

Henry chuckled and picked her back up. "Well you are cute."

Linda laughed. "Come on, there's a few rides we want to go on again today."

"And I wanna play more with Bendy!" Audrey added.

Henry smiled at his family, gripping Audrey tight, maybe even a little too tight, but she and Linda were the one thing keeping him grounded in this crazy world he'd helped create. They were the good in his life, and sometimes, he had to hold on just to remind himself that for them, just for them, everything else was worth it.

* * *

Tom couldn't get away from Joey fast enough before. But now, he was walking all by himself again in the park he hated. He just had to get away from Joey. Just the sight of him pissed him off. Unlike when he was still Boris, he could fight Joey now. He had the mind and strength to attack him without that infuriating toonish adoration he'd had to fight before. He had none of that now. Nothing but hatred and disgust and the urge to swing hard enough to knock that smug smile right off of Joey's face.

But Joey, just like always, held all the cards. The master of Tom's only hope and his greatest regrets. He was always in control. Always. Tom had lost control of his life the moment he'd signed on to work for him.

Tom plopped himself down on a park bench and ran his hands through his hair. There weren't many people where he was, it was a back path that led out to the employee parking lot, so visitors mostly stayed away from it. He was grateful. They made too much noise sometimes, every laugh and shout and voice was all overwhelming to the point where he could scream. The quiet was preferred, right on the edge of the crowd, where they were far enough away to not be noisy, but close enough to keep rowdy birds away. He just wanted quiet.

"Here you are, all by yourself again."

Tom looked up. Alice smiled down at him. She looked a little worn out, and without even asking, took a seat next to him.

"Phew that last show was a tough one! Lots of kids to make happy! I always need a breather between shows though..."

"Mmhm," Tom said, avoiding looking at her.

"Did you come see this show too?" she asked.

"Yup," Tom said. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I thought I saw you!" she said. "You weren't sitting down at a table this time though."

"I was with friends," Tom muttered.

"Where are your friends now?" Alice asked.

"T-They had something else to do. L-listen, I don't want to take up your time miss, so I'll just-" Tom started to rise, but she grabbed his arm. It caught him off guard. A gloved hand that didn't feel right, didn't feel as coarse as human hands, too smooth and soft and cold. Was this how his hand felt when he was Boris? Did Allison feel as disgusted as he felt now?

"Do...do you dislike me, Tom?"

He froze, and finally looked over at her. Her smile was gone, replaced by a worried look, almost distraught.

"W...what?" he asked.

"...you always look so sad at my shows," she said. "I thought maybe if I sang extra good, then you'd cheer up. Like maybe you came to my shows to make yourself smile! But...you don't smile. Not even when I talk to you. You don't smile at all. You just look so sad. You look like someone's hurting you. Have I done something wrong?" she asked.

"Why do you care?!" Tom snapped. She let go of his arm, looking like he'd slapped her, and he'd never felt so low. "I...I'm sorry. That was...that was wrong of me to lash out at you, I..."

"My job in this park is to make people happy," Alice said. She smiled. "Mister Joey Drew says that's what we're here to do! Make people smile! Make them happy, make them feel safe, and make them want to stay here forever! So...we know when people are sad. Even if they're pretending they're not, we can tell! We're drawn to them! Like a pull. We can tell. And we try extra hard to make them happy. But the more I try to make you happy, even coming down and talking to you a few nights ago, and today too, you don't get happy. You just...get more sad."

Tom sighed and sat back down. "...it's not your fault," he said quietly. "You...remind me of someone. That's all."

Alice blinked. "I remind you of someone?"

Tom's bottom lip quivered. "Yeah. Someone who means the world to me. More than anything. But...she's gone now. And I don't know how to get her back. I love her more than anything, but I can't even tell her that."

Alice was quiet for a long time. She looked down at her hands. "...I don't know if I've ever reminded anybody of anything before. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Tom said again. "It's really not your fault."

"Promise?" she said, her voice almost a squeak.

Tom chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. I promise."

Alice breathed a sigh of relief, then stood. "...I should get back to my show now, Mister Tom. But it was good to speak with you. I hope that person I remind you of comes back."

"I don't know if that's possible," Tom said. "But I hope so too."

"I'll see you later, Mister Tom. Let's talk again soon!" Alice waved goodbye, and then hurried away back toward the stage.

Tom could only manage a halfway before his hand fell to his side and he collapsed into a fit of broken sobs.

Henry found him an hour later. He'd finished crying by then, but Henry insisted he stay in Linda and his's guest room. Tom was too tired to refuse. As he settled down into the guest bed at their house, he could hear Linda humming in the living room, Henry reading a Audrey a story before bed, their old house creaking in all kinds of different places, and for once, the noise wasn't too much at all, and soothed him to sleep in minutes.

* * *

The large iron gates keeping the park from the outside world swung to a close and locked. Alice waved goodbye to the last of the guests, stretching forward on her tiptoes until they were out of sight. The second they were gone, her hand fell back to her side. She sighed. Another great day. But now they were gone. She was always left with an empty feeling when they were gone. Like something was missing. She missed their smiles and their laughter, their adoring eyes and wide, innocent faces. Making them happy filled her with a sense of purpose, something greater than happiness or joy. It was like...belonging. Sure, she belonged in this park. She lived here! And she'd been here happily since Mister Joey Drew brought her to life oh so long ago! But an empty park was much different from a full one. The air felt different. Thinner, not quite enough to fill her lungs. At least, not in the same way the thick air full of people did.

Bendy tugged insistently on her hand, and Alice giggled and turned to him. "Aw Bendy, are you wanting to go watch some cartoons?"

Bendy nodded up and down eagerly and pulled her toward the studio. Mister Joey Drew always left an animation reel on for the two of them in the back. Bendy liked nothing more than to watch cartoons with her. And sometimes Boris too! That was so fun! He'd always turn to her, expecting her to sing along or speak along to the parts of the cartoon that had her voice in it. Why, Mister Joey Drew had just released a cartoon starring the two of them for the first time! Gosh, it was something! She remembered speaking for the roles! How strange it was, to see herself on the screen, and to also know she existed here. She knew that's why Bendy liked it too. It was a soothing feeling, seeing where someone came from. But there was always this longing feeling too. Seeing them move about on the screen was...familiar. A little bittersweet, like a longing for something that was impossible to describe.

She followed him through the park, the sun dipping down below the horizon. The sky above darkened to a deep midnight purple, then finally a dark black, darker than her hair, and dotted with a thousand stars. The streetlights that guided their steps flickered to life automatically. It was so quiet, she could hear the buzz and the soft thumps of desperate moths and bugs pounding on the outsides. She wondered why they were so drawn to the light. She always had a lot of questions like that, questions she wanted to ask Mister Joey Drew, but Mister Joey Drew was a very busy man, so he had her write all of her questions down to answer later. It was hard to write with her big hands. But she tried. Writing her name was the most fun.

Bendy's grip tightened around her hand for a moment. She could feel him shake. She gently took her hand away, giving him a moment. She looked away.

She could hear his skin popping. Moving. Bones, or congealed ink hard enough to be bones, snapping into place. There was always a present bubbling noise too, like something moving in ink or sludge.

It sounded terribly painful.

She waited a moment, and then felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She turned around and looked up at Bendy. He looked down at her, smile softer, hesitant, not sure if it was alright to take her hand again. She giggled and took his monstrous hand. "It's always so weird, looking _up_ at you for a change, Bendy dear!"

His grin widened and they both started their walk again.

She had to admit, his change was...hard to adjust to. The first time she saw it, she'd nearly screamed, gasping in shock and backing up.

That was the first time she'd ever seen that smile leave his face. It was terribly sad. He reached out for her, and Mister Joey Drew told her not to flinch. So she didn't. And Bendy had grabbed her arm.

His ink...hurt. When it wasn't with his gloved hand. She had to be careful. It was like the ink of her own body was being pulled into him. Like a magnet. But he grabbed her with his gloved hand, and it wasn't so bad then.

Mister Joey Drew explained that Bendy was sick. Or...something. She hadn't really understood a lot of it. Something about...something about using ink and something abnormal to make him. She didn't really know what was normal, she certainly didn't know what had been done to make her, but she could tell that something with Bendy had gone wrong. At least, that's what seems to have happened.

"But Bendy here is one of a kind! Just like all of you! And we couldn't possibly replace any of you! So, will you accept Bendy for how he is, Alice?" Joey had asked.

Well, of course she would! That's what any good, kind angel would do! Besides, he was still her delightful little Bendy! He was taller. Perhaps a bit rougher. Perhaps he walked a bit weird, and perhaps her stomach felt like it was twisting into knots around him, but he was still Bendy. So she didn't mind.

Or at least...she got used to it.

It was also weird being the only one among them who could talk. She'd asked Joey about that, but Joey explained that since she was the only one who could talk in the cartoons, she was the only one who could talk now. But then, why couldn't Bendy and Boris talk during the cartoons too? She bet they had wonderful things to say. They were good company, but most of the time, she was left to talk with no one but herself. And even if she was in the room with the two of them, it was still incredibly lonely.

She would have loved another toon that could talk. Somebody like her. Maybe even somebody who loved to sing! Like a duet! But Joey said that making new toons was hard. She could hope, though.

Bendy let go of her hand, tilting his head up to the air. He did that sometimes. Got distracted by something in the park that she couldn't see. His mouth clacked up and down, the only sound he could really make, but she understood what he wanted.

"I'll meet you at the studio!" Alice said. Bendy nodded, and limped off into the park.

She wondered what he did out there.

Alice kept walking, humming a little tune under her breath. Being by herself like this, listening to nothing but the sounds of crickets...she supposed she should find it peaceful. But she found herself _longing_ for something. She didn't have the word for it. Something familiar, and foreign at the same time. She'd catch a clearer glimpse of it now and then. A park attendee would curse, and she'd glimpse it. She'd hear a banging noise, or watch maintenance workers go by, and she'd feel it again. Something pressing in on her chest, telling her something was wrong, something was off.

Was she broken, like Bendy was? The thought made her scared. So she always kept those little feelings to herself. She didn't want to disappoint Joey, he'd worked so hard to make her perfect! He'd even told her so!

All the same, Alice felt like something was _missing_. Some little piece she didn't have was keeping her from being the one, true, perfect angel, and it was devouring her from the inside out.

_"Hmm hmm, hmm hmm hmmmm..."_

Alice stopped. That wasn't her humming. Who was that?

_"Hmmmm hmm hmm...hmm hm hmmm..."_

She turned around in a circle, trying to find the source of the noise. It was a woman's voice. It sounded almost like her, but different. She knew the song too. It was a song she'd sung many times. Was a late-night park worker humming? No, the workers had to keep to the tunnels. That was Joey's rule. Maybe she'd mistaken one of the rides, turning on and flickering about. Joey left the rides on for them to try out after dark if they'd like. She liked the haunted house best.

"Hello? Is anyone out there? There's no one supposed to be out in the park after dark you know!" she called out.

The humming stopped.

"It's alright if you're lost! I can help you, so don't you worry about a little ole thing!" she said chipperly. "Come on then, let's help you get home! Hello?"

More silence.

Alice sighed. "Here I am talking to myself..." She turned to head back to the studio, but a figure stood in front of her. A mutilated angel, half of her face distorted by ink, gone, leaving a gaping whole. Her halo was twisted and broken, her mouth was jagged and she could see her teeth. Her hands were like claws, her good eye was like a dagger. Alice screamed and covered her face at the sight, but instantly, the apparition disappeared. Alice felt her breathing quicken and her knees wobble.

Was it an illusion? Was she losing her mind? Oh god, she really was broken, wasn't she? She was seeing distorted versions of herself now...is that horrible thing what she would become if she didn't fix herself?!

Panic rose in the back of Alice's throat. What is Joey took her apart? What if...what if he made a new Alice to replace her, and she was cast aside?

No. Alice refused to let that be the case.

She **would** be perfect. No matter what.

* * *

**I guess becoming a toon takes a little toll on your sanity.**

**But we already knew that.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! It's nice to be getting back in the swing of things. I hope all of you are staying safe during these crazy times. I'm still working as hard as ever, but I'm managing to squeeze out a story chapter or two here and there. Don't be afraid to stretch your own creativity a bit if you're stuck inside! And likewise, don't beat yourself up too much if you're taking this time to relax rather than work on any creative projects. Take things at your own pace, and stay healthy.**

**As always, please let me know if you have any suggestions or criticism. I'm always looking for ways to improve. If something is confusing, if you can't picture the setting of a scene very well, or even if something feels out of character or poorly written, don't be afraid to point it out to me. I want to keep getting better and better! Thank you!**


	22. Chapter 22: The Stowaway

**Part II Chapter 3: The Stowaway**

* * *

When Henry headed out to the front porch early in the morning, much too early in his opinion, Tom was already waiting for him. He stared ahead at the dark sky, still too early for any color to leak out, but bright enough for the star to start fading. Henry handed him a cup of coffee.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You can't sleep either?"

Henry chuckled. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in years. Not since I left Joey Drew Studios."

"What about when you first joined?" Tom asked.

"Those were the good days. Back when Joey's dreams didn't feel so...desperate. It felt like the handfull of us could take on the world with hard work. I really felt like things could go the best of places back then," Henry said.

"Joey's never satisfied. Never has been," Tom remarked. "Things were doomed from the start."

Henry frowned. "I don't know. Part of me wonders what would have happened if he hadn't gotten that loan from Gent. If he'd never made Bendyland, or the ink machine...how different would things be?"

"The ink machine was in the works long before Bendyland was though," Tom said. "Still, I can't believe someone could come up with such a crazy idea...living ink. Never would have thought it up in a million years."

"But you helped work on it, right?" Henry said.

Tom was quiet. His eyes shifted. He looked away from Henry, away from the sky, staring off into something Henry couldn't see. "Yeah. I helped work on it. But it was...it was more than that. I had my own workshop, you know. Did you know that? Joey let me tinker away with whatever I wanted. I did all kinds of stuff at first. Before I really knew just what that living ink was, I..." Tom trailed off. Henry watched a chill run down his spine, but he tried to hide it behind clenched teeth and fists. "Nothing good can come out of that machine."

"I agree," Henry said. "Still. In our current situation, there's not much we can do about it. Joey has nearly tripled security. Our loved ones are more or less being held hostage. And Gent has an increased presence, now more than ever. I've been seeing more of Sinclair that I'd ever want to."

"He's the top dog in charge, right?" Tom asked. "I remember him. He'd come around early in the beginning too."

"I don't know much about him," Henry admitted. "Just that he was the one who agreed to go with Joey's crazy ideas. He got the investment for Bendyland, and well, now here we are."

"Any idea why he and the other Gent people are showing up more?" Tom asked.

"Well, I thought that maybe it had to do with the park's anniversary coming up. I mean, Joey asked me to start working on a Bendy movie even...so I assumed they're just here for the next big step in Bendyland's future," Henry said.

"Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of," Tom growled. "Every time Gent shows up, there's trouble."

Henry swallowed. He didn't even want to think of the possibility of there being something even worse on the horizon. How could it get worse than this?

No. That wasn't the question. The question was, would Joey ever be satisfied, and if not, how far would he go?"

"...you think Joey's going to create more of those ink creatures? The toons?" Henry asked.

"God, I hope not," Tom whispered.

Both got quiet. The sun started to peak up now, and birds were already rising from their nests to sing their hearts out. Audrey would be up soon, up and sitting down to watch her morning cartoons. She was pretty good about not waking he or Linda up on the weekends. Sometimes she still did, but he didn't mind. Sometimes he preferred it, when he'd hear the bedroom door softly creak out, the tiny sounds of her socked feet padding on the floor as she hoisted herself up into their bed and into the covers between them. He hated to use the word angel, Joey Drew Studios had stolen whatever holy annotation it used to have, but Audrey and Linda, they really were something else. His only lights in this world.

"Henry, would you be willing to help me sneak down into my old workshop?" Tom asked.

"What?" Henry asked.

Tom frowned. "...some things down there I need. Joey's got that place pretty well guarded during the day, but I think with your help, I might be able to get down there at night. I'd need somebody to watch my back."

"What do you need down there for?" Henry asked. "You're not planning on...I mean, you're not going to try to take down the park again, are you?"

Tom hesitated, but then shook his head. "I've got...notes down there. Audio logs. Things I've hidden away from when I was messing around with tools and machine parts and ink. Listen, I...I don't want Gent gettin' ahold of those notes. I've already contributed enough to this nightmare. If I find out they've gone through my stuff, and even one thing I did gives them any sort of foothold to do something worse, then I..." Tom ran a hand through his hair. "...I just don't want any more on my conscious, Henry. I've got enough as is."

Henry sighed. "...how about tonight? I'll tell Linda we're going out, and we can sneak in after dark. But this is the last time, alright? I can't have Joey catching me sneaking around again."

"I know," Tom said quickly. "I don't want that either, and if things get tough, I don't care if you have to rat me out to save yourself and your family. That's fine with me, Henry, really."

Henry rubbed his temples. "...I'm gonna go put on another pot of coffee."

Tom chuckled. "Better make it two."

As Henry turned toward the door, a pair of peeking eyes ducked back inside before he noticed, slinking away back to the living room to watch cartoons.

* * *

Tom hadn't really wanted to lie to Henry. And it wasn't an exact lie, so to speak. He really did want to keep those notes out of Gent's hands. But there was something else in his workshop he wanted. Something he'd built a long time ago that had been cast aside and forgotten almost instantly, regarded by Joey as an utter failure. Still, Tom couldn't shake the feeling that something in his old workshop would be useful, that there was something there he absolutely needed if he was going to save Allison.

Save her...that was a thought he hadn't dared to linger on for more than a few seconds in a really long time. It was dangerous. It was...painful. Hope made his heart ache almost more than seeing her as Alice did.

Even as Alice, her gaze was still so kind.

She was still in there, somewhere. He knew she was. He just had to find her. If he could get to remember, really remember, then that would...that would be something at least.

Tom arrived at the park before Henry, right at closing time, watching from the parking lot as employees and park guests filed out in lingering groups. Attendance really had started to shrink down over the past few years, especially these past few months. Piedmont had completed his new ride, no surprise, and it had gained popularity while it lasted, but soon it was forgotten. That was the thing with Bertrum that Tom noticed, his work was flashy, catchy, but usually died down just as quickly as it lit up, like a firework. He chased fads and temporary delights as opposed to long-lasting joys. And while he was a brilliant architect for rides, sure, he wasn't all that brilliant himself. A bit too up in his own head for Tom's taste, too blinded by his own talents to see where he could improve. So he hadn't really improved, not in these last few years anyway. There had been rumors that Joey might be firing him soon.

But Tom wasn't here for Bertrum. He was here for Wally. He saw him exit the park and look around, gazing across the park before his eyes met Tom's. They let up and he waved, and Wally bounced over to Tom with far too much energy.

"Heya Tom! You got a late shift tonight?" Wally asked.

Tom smiled. "You caught me. And I forgot my keys to the lower section, so I figured you'd be able to help me if I could borrow yours."

Wally started to hold out his keys, then paused, dangling them just out of reach. "...are you really workin' on something so late at night?" he asked. "I haven't seen you work on much these past few days. Sure, you do bits here and there, I've seen you make some repairs...but I've been hearing that Joey doesn't really like having you around much these days, and the feeling is mutual. This ain't gonna get me in trouble, is it? Because I swear, if I get in trouble because of your shenanigans and disappear like some of the others, then I'm outta-"

Tom rubbed his temples. "Yeah yeah, I know." He took a deep breath and put on the most genuine smile he could muster. "Honestly, Wally, there's a pipe on the lower sections I think is gonna burst soon. I figured I'd go down there and fix it before it bursts rather than after. I'd hate for you to have such a large mess to clean up, after all."

Wally's face crumpled into horror. "Oh Lord, not another burst pipe, I hate cleaning up those messes!" he practically threw his keys at Tom. "There! Go on and fix it then, if I have to clean up one more of those burst pipes and wade through that awful ink, then I'm outta here!" Wally stomped off, muttering something about cleaning and pipes and not getting paid nearly enough for being the head of janitorial staff, but Tom had ignored him the moment the keys had left his hands.

After what happened last time, Joey had sealed up the entire lower section under lock and key, and only a select few employees were allowed access down by the ink machine now. Tom was not one of them, and if Joey ever needed him to repair anything related to the ink machine, including some of the pipes closer to it, Tom had to be escorted by several other personnel that did have key access. Even with only one arm, Joey still didn't fire Tom. Probably because Tom didn't let losing an arm hold him back. It took him a while to relearn a few things, and it wasn't by any means easy, but he was more than capable of doing his job with one hand. And he couldn't afford to have Joey fire him or get rid of him. If that happened, he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on Allison.

Tom went back to his car and waited for Henry to arrive. He parked in the back, hoping lingering security wouldn't notice him. That was another thing Joey had done. He made sure all the security personnel knew to be wary of Tom sneaking around after dark. Unless Joey had given him explicit permission, which was highly unlikely considering Tom didn't even like to look at Joey, much less hold a conversation lasting more than a few seconds with him, the guards weren't allowed to let Tom just wander around the park. But that's where Henry came in.

He hadn't really wanted to _use_ Henry per say, but Henry was his ace in the hole. Joey didn't really trust Henry. He trust his power and control over Henry. He knew that Henry wouldn't do anything to endanger his family.

Henry's car pulled up a second later, parking beside Tom's. Henry stepped out of the car. "Everybody gone? You got the keys?"

Tom nodded and held them up.

"Alright then," Henry said. "Let's get this over with quickly so I can get back home."

"Right," Tom said, and the two headed inside. After they were out of sight, the back door to Henry's car opened, and then shut again. Audrey peeked her head around the corner of the car and watched them with a grin.

"I wanna see Bendy too!" she whispered to herself, and followed after them.

* * *

Alice hummed, walking around the park again after dark. Alone. Why couldn't the park guests just stay all the time? Why did they have to leave at all? They should just stay forever. She'd love it if she could always have an audience, or least someone else to hold a conversation with at night. But no. She was all alone. And lately, she hated being alone even more than she usually did. It was...scary. She'd swear she could hear laughing sometimes, or singing that sounded like her, but wasn't quite like her either. Sometimes she heard voices too. One was always mocking, sickeningly sweet, whispering things that Alice could never make out clearly, but still scared her nonetheless. Sometimes there was another voice too. This one was even softer, and harder to hear at all. It sounded like her voice, but different, like through water of muffled through walls. That one, at least, was easier to ignore.

Her humming slowly turned to singing, trying to ease her fears with her own little songs. Most were songs she already knew, but sometimes she tried to think up new ones! That was harder to do. Toons could only recreate what they already knew, so most of her own little songs just sounded like mashups of different songs, reused lyrics and melodies that never quite fit or made sense, but she liked them all the same. Besides, nobody else could hear her right now anyway except Bendy, who often went off on his own at night for reasons she could never quite understand, or Boris, who was either napping or eating when he was left alone. He didn't like being alone either, she could tell it bothered him as much as it bothered her, but he couldn't speak, so even if they walked together, it still felt lonely. And as much as she liked Boris, something about him made her sad when they were alone.

"...ca...turn a...wa..."

Alice paused. Was that whispering? It certainly hadn't come from her head this time. And it sounded like a man's voice. "Hello? Is someone there?"

The voice got quiet, but she heard scuffling ahead of her.

"If you're a worker, I hope I haven't startled you," she said.

Again, the voices were quiet.

"If...if you're a visitor, I promise you're not in trouble, but you aren't supposed to be here after dark. The park just closed, so I can take you to the gates. Just come out, alright?" she said, trying to sound as gentle as possible.

More rustling, this time moving away from her, and the rustling turned into the heavy pounding of footsteps. Somebody was running away.

"Hey! Wait!" she called, running after them. If they were running, then they definitely were NOT a worker. Workers always came out and smiled when she called after them! They couldn't talk for long, but they always smiled! Joey said they would always smile at her, that's how she knows she's doing a good job! Had she done something wrong? Was someone running away from her because she hadn't done everything right? She'd tried to sound nice!

Before she knew what was happening, Alice was giving chase to the person or people running away. It was dark up ahead, and they darted in and around buildings like they knew exactly where to go. But so did she, and she followed after them with the endurance a normal human being could never hope to possess.

"Please stop! It's dangerous after dark!" she called out again, but when she rounded another corner, the figure was gone, and everything was silent. She looked around, held her breath to listen for any sort of noise, but she couldn't hear a thing. There was nothing. No more rustling or scuffling or whispering. Had...had she imagined it? Was this just her mind playing tricks on her again? Maybe it was Bendy or Boris, waiting to spring out and surprise her. But...no. She waited several more minutes, but whatever she had been chasing was long gone.

She sighed and looked down. She really hoped it wasn't park guests sneaking in...maybe it was just a new worker than she had startled. Or maybe it really was all in her head. Maybe something was really wrong with her. She was scared to tell Joey, scared that maybe he'd punish her if she wasn't perfect...but if this continued, she wouldn't be able to keep calm.

"H...hey...d-daddy...where did...you go?"

Alice blinked. No. She hadn't imagined that. A tiny voice, coming back from where she had first started running. She could feel their sadness, like a pull on her heart. Once again, her feet started moving all on their own.

"Waaaaah! W-Waaaaah!"

Alice's running turned to sprinting. Someone was sad...someone was really sad, and scared! She rounded the corner of the park, and there, standing in the middle of the main square, was a small girl. The girl was a crying, sniffling mess, tears and snot dripping down her face as she wailed.

"Excuse me...are you lost?" Alice asked.

The girl stopped, hiccuping back tears as she looked over at Alice. Her bottom lip quivered, and she sprinted over and latched onto Alice's leg, crying into her dress. "M-my daddy...a-and he...r-running a-and...I-I can't..."

"There there now," Alice said, patting the poor girl's back. Just what had happened? How on earth had this small girl gotten here? The poor thing could barely form a coherent sentence, and she was all alone! Perhaps she had run off from her parents before the park closed...but if that was the case, where were her parents? Were they the ones she had been chasing before? If so, why had they run away from her?

The girl continued to cry, and Alice felt her sadness pierce into her like a knife. She knelt down to eye level with the girl.

"Now now, there's no reason to cry! Just calm down. Take deep breathes." Alice started to sing, opening her mouth and singing the catchiest song she knew. After a few moments, the girl's tears turned to smiles, and she started singing along with her. Alice felt her sadness start to dissipate, replaced only by joy. She finished her song and pat the girl's head. "Why don't you tell me what happened, now that you've calmed down a bit?"

The girl's bottom lip quivered again. "I...I can't...I'll get...in trouble..."

Alice smiled. "You won't get in trouble. I promise! But why don't we start with just telling me your name instead, hm?"

"Audrey..." the girl said. "My name is Audrey...and I...I got lost...I don't know where my daddy is..."

Poor thing, Allison thought to herself, and stood back up. She extended her hand to the little girl, who reached out to hold it instantly. "Well Audrey, that is a lovely name! Why don't we search the park to try to find your daddy then, hm? And while we search, you can spend time with me!"

Audrey sniffled and wiped away the last of her tears with the back of her free hand. "Can...can we go on the merry-go-round?"

Alice giggled, and started walking with the little girl through the park. "Why, we can go on whatever rides you want!"

Audrey's face broke into another wide smile, and Alice again felt that joy spread through her heart. Her loneliness was gone, completely dissipated under the admiring gaze of the girl. She almost didn't want to search for her father. She'd made a new friend, one she could talk with and sing to and make happy! But no, Alice knew deep down that wasn't right. She needed to find this girl's father immediately. But going on a few rides first couldn't hurt, right? They could always look for her father along the way!

Alice smiled and started to sing again, little Audrey soon joining her, and the two walked down the empty park lanes without a care in the world.

But Bendy, stirred from his nightly patrols by the sound of running and a new voice singing, was already on his way to investigate.

* * *

Henry was getting anxious. He could tell Tom was too. Only five minutes into the park, and they'd nearly been caught by Alice? Tom had froze on the spot, and Henry had to practically punch him to get him to start running away. She'd chased them for a while, but they'd managed to lose her down into the tunnels. Now, Henry couldn't shake the feeling that their entire night was just going to keep going downhill. He thought about asking Tom to just call the whole night off altogether. But seeing Alice had just spurred Tom on, and now both of them were practically running down beneath the park.

"What happens if we run into Bendy?" Henry asked.

"I'm hoping we don't," Tom admitted. "I don't really have a plan for if we do. Just smile I guess?"

"That never works with me," Henry said lowly. "A smile never cuts it..."

"Then I guess we better keep moving."

The tunnels had gotten darker in the time since they'd last visited. Tom hadn't kept up as many repairs. Sure, he'd taken care of the big ones, but he had no motivation to see this park succeed anymore. Smaller pipes had burst, leaking ink all over the place and making the floor slick and dark. The smell was overbearing too, it shot right up into their noses and through to their heads, making them dizzy. Wooden planks had fallen or peeled off the walls. Joey was going to have to completely redo this place, or risk an accident. If the walkways below collapsed, the park above may just fall in too, like one big sinkhole.

"We're almost there," Tom said. He didn't feel the pull toward the ink machine anymore. Not like what he used to feel, when he was Boris. It was severed completely, and he wasn't complaining. The two of them ducked in and out of storage rooms, dodging security that really had increased their rounds. Quite a few times, Tom thought for sure they were caught, flashlights sweeping over their hiding places, but then the footsteps of the guards would just continue on, and Henry and Tom continued on as well. Maybe they were just lucky, but Tom felt he had a bad habit of confusing good and bad luck in this place.

Finally, they reached an old staircase. The door was barricaded and locked shut, but Tom had brought his axe just in case. He had a feeling this staircase would have been sealed off. "Watch my back," he told Henry, and got to work. It was trickier with one arm than he thought it would be, and eventually, Henry took over prying off the old beams and Tom stood watch. Finally, the door swung open, and the dark staircase below beckoned them foreward. There were no lights, they'd either been turned off or burnt out years ago. They couldn't even tell if the darkness that awaited them at the bottom was just empty shadows or a river of ink.

Henry reached into a bag he'd brought along and pulled out a flashlight for himself and Tom. Tom grunted gratitude, and the two headed down into the abyss.

"You really used to work down here?" Henry asked.

"This was before the park was built. Or rather, when the park was just starting to become an idea. After you left, I think. You left before all the ink machine stuff, right?"

"Yeah," Henry said. "I could tell Joey was getting desperate. I didn't want to see where that desperation would lead, and I was just...tired. I didn't believe that we could achieve the impossible anymore. And I'd met Linda, and we were ready to settle down together..."

"You made the right call," Tom said.

"And yet, here I am. Back here again," Henry said with a sigh.

"Yup. Same as me. This used to be a place where we'd work on building the machine. I only ever really helped with maintenance mind you, but...still. I was hired on and worked with Gent about fifty hours a week. No overtime pay. You know how it was. But this place was my workshop, my break room. I could claim I was doing work for Joey or the machine, but really I just used it as an excuse to do whatever I wanted for a while. Give my mind a break, you know?"

Henry nodded. "Still. I didn't know you worked this close with the machine. That you had this much to do with all of this."

Tom clenched his jaw and grew quiet.

"Ah, sorry," Henry said. "I didn't mean for that to sound so accusing..."

"Yeah, well...you're probably right," Tom said. He stopped at the bottom of the staircase. There was a singular dark hallway, with a few doors on each side. He shone his flashlight over to the far door. "There it is. That's my workshop. Can you stay here and stand guard?"

Henry wanted to know what was inside the workshop. Wanted to know why Tom wouldn't meet his eyes, why he seemed so nervous. But asking too many questions wouldn't earn him anything but Tom's anger, and he didn't want that. Not while they were stuck deep down beneath the park. Henry nodded, and Tom walked over to the room in the back. He shoved it open with a heave, and disappeared inside.

Tom wanted to tell him. But...it was hard. It had been hard to force himself to even come all this way. But he had to make sure Gent never got their hands on what was down here. He waded through crumpled furniture and rotting wood toward the filing cabinet and work bench in the back of the room.

There. There was the log. He wondered if it even still worked. He hoped it didn't. It's make him feel better. But...he couldn't let Henry know. He couldn't let...he couldn't let Allison know. If they got her back. And he wanted to. So much. But this was a part of his past he couldn't keep running from. He clicked the play button on the tape hesitantly.

"Progress report to Gent's home office. Client: Joey Drew Studios."

Tom swallowed. That was his voice alright.

"Although we're making progress, the client's expectations keep changing. What started as a machine to simply mold life size figures now seems to be teetering on the edge of magic more than engineering. Although Mister Drew remained convinced that they're the same thing...the process of running the cartoon film through the machines for the figures to imprint upon themselves is going well, we've had several near successes. One weird note, the first figure ever created was a failed attempt at the likeness of the character called 'Bendy.' Since that time, no other attempts at this particular figure have emerged. And the one that did...I don't know. There's just something unworldly about him."

The tape clicked off. Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

...yeah. He used to work for Gent. He'd been hired onto the park THROUGH Gent. And now, it was all catching up to him. But...he had what he needed. He couldn't remember the old processes. Going back and forth from Boris had scrambled things around. Making going through the ink machine itself had done that. But now he remembered.

The cartoon reels were inserted into the machine. The 'figures' were forced to watch the cartoons as they were created as a way of imprinting onto that character itself. If Joey, and Gent, had figured out a way to perfect the machine, they must have altered the cartoon reels. That was the only explanation for how Allison could have forgotten him when she turned into Alice.

So...theoretically speaking...it he could find a way to swap the reels...maybe play footage of her life up until now, if he could find some...

Maybe. Just maybe, he could get her to remember him. It was a long shot. It was dangerous. Probably just a desperate attempt to grab onto any hope that he could find. But maybe working at Gent before all of this was a good thing. Or maybe, some good could come of it. He used to like Gent, used to trust them. But they'd been blinded by Joey's money after the ink machine became a colossal success. He couldn't trust them now. He could only trust himself and his own capabilities.

Tom packed up the audio log and his notes that could be salvaged in the filing cabinet. He gave the big empty room one last look, including eyeing the mechanical figure on his work bench, then headed out.

* * *

**Thanks for waiting so long for this next chapter everyone, I hope it was worth the wait! I've still been working remotely from home with my new job, so I haven't had quite as much free-time during this quarantine as I originally thought I might. ...okay, Animal Crossing New Horizons has also completely sucked away my time I'M SORRY. Still, I hope this chapter was worth it, I wanted to make sure I gave everyone plenty to dive back into! Please stay safe during these times, and be sure to take care of your physical AND mental health!**

**I think that about wraps up this chapter! Hopefully I'll have another one out soon! Thanks again for all of the wonderful support!**


	23. Chapter 23: Tiny Little Sheep

**Part II Chapter 4: Tiny Little Sheep**

* * *

Alice loved many of the rides at Bendyland, but she wasn't able to ride them often. They were for park guests, and it wouldn't be fair for a toon like her to take one of the seats reserved for a paying customer. But after dark, sometimes she'd flip on the power, just for a single ride at a time, and ride them all by herself. Well, not always by herself. Sometimes Boris would join her! Bendy rarely joined, he didn't seem to like the rides much. She had a feeling that perhaps the little devil was afraid of heights, or maybe he got sick or dizzy. Either way, he never joined them.

She loved the lights on the rights, how they'd twinkle to life like stars, how music would play from all corners, making her feel like she wasn't alone. It was a reminder that dawn was just around the corner, she just had to wait a little bit longer for park guests to start arriving again. The sound of machinery humming and electricity charging through cables was like a mother's lullaby, so familiar at this point that it was comforting.

She had to be careful the guards didn't see her. She'd been caught before, and they'd told Joey. Joey had scolded her for wasting good park money. There was no point in powering things on at night unless they were testing the rides or doing some sort of maintenance. She understood. She did. She didn't want to upset Joey.

But surely he'd understand, just this once, if she turned on a few of the rides for Miss Audrey. The poor little girl was still sniffling, but she was being very brave, and had only cried a few other times while they'd walked through the park! Alice was very proud of her. They'd searched for her father for a long time, but hadn't come across any other human being. They'd run into Boris once, who happily played Audrey a song or two from his banjo. He'd left to go find her some food after she said she was hungry.

Now, though, they'd nearly circled the entire park, and still hadn't found her family. Alice could tell the little girl was nearing her breaking point, exhausted, ready to go home, and about to break down into tears again. Thankfully, Alice had a feeling she knew just the cure. She led Audrey over to her favorite ride. The carousel. It was powered off, seated in a corner of the park that didn't get as much traffic as others, hopefully meaning that no security would come by to scold her. Though, to that same effect, it might not be a bad thing if they drew over security, since it might be easier to find Audrey the help that she needed to get back to her family. Yes. That was a good excuse to turn on the ride, one even Joey would have to understand.

"Would you like to go on the carousel?" Alice asked.

Audrey squeezed Alice's hand a little, wide eyes staring up at her with admiration. Alice's heart soured. "...is it okay?"

Alice held a finger up to her lips and winked. "It can be our little secret...alright? Can you promise not to tell?"

Audrey nodded, and Alice headed to the back control panel to flip on the power. Joey had made sure that the power was wired to each individual ride, so that if one went down, they didn't all go down. This also meant that if part of the park ever lost power, some of the rides could still run, and they could still do their best to entertain the guests. Everything was always about entertaining the guests, of course.

The carousel whirred to life, twinkling music notes spinning out of the speakers and dancing alongside the painted horses. Each of the bulbs flickered and buzzed, a few needing to be replaced. This was one of the older rides in the park, but it was still just as popular as always. Audrey smiled as the large ride spun and twirled in front of her.

Alice pulled a lever on the control box, and the ride slowly spun to a stop. "Alright, Miss Audrey, let's choose a steed fit for a princess!"

"An angel!" Audrey said happily. "I wanna be an angel!"

Alice giggled, and watched as Audrey picked out a royal blue horse with a wide smile and golden hooves. Alice helped hoist her onto the horse, made sure she got a firm grip on the bar, then headed off the ride to start it up. "Are you ready, Audrey?"

"Ready!" Audrey said.

Alice pulled the lever, and once again the merry-go-round started to spin. The horses bobbed up and down in their whirlpool of gallops, and Audrey laughed every time the horse sank back toward the ground, only to rise up again a moment later. Alice watched her from the side, each giggle and bubble of laughter filling her heart.

This feeling really did make her feel whole. The previous imperfections she'd worried about so much were chased from her mind. It was only in the absence of such joy did she feel lonely. Ugly. She knew the guests would come back every morning. She knew that. But when the park grew dark and cold, it was so hard to keep hope. It was like nothing else existed. Like her mind was free to think about...other things. Like what was wrong with her. Why she often felt torn, why sometimes her thoughts didn't feel like...her.

She didn't like that. She liked when it was easy. When kids and adults alike would smile and laugh and shower her with adoration. She didn't have to think then. She knew what she was supposed to do. When she alone, she didn't know. Go watch cartoons? Wander the park aimlessly? The days went by so fast, too fast, but the nights dragged on forever.

Not tonight though. Tonight was _special_. And if it wanted to drag on forever, that was just fine with her. It was almost a shame that the girl would have to go back home soon. but she'd find her parents for her. Her father.

She just...she was just going to spend a little more time with her first. Soak in just a few more of those smiles.

She hummed the carousel songs under her breath in tune with the dancing horses, but was interrupted when she felt something inside her instinctively stiffen. She heard a chittering noise behind her and turned around. She jumped, but only slightly. She couldn't help it.

Bendy loomed over her, eyes locked onto the lit carousel in front of them. She could see his eyes behind the ink. She could see them fixated not on the lights or the horses, but on the girl riding them. His smile stretched wider. His hands quivered.

And Alice felt...what did she feel? What was this sudden fear, this sudden desperation? A sudden urge to hold onto Audrey, to keep her for herself, to not lot Bendy steal another adoring gaze out from under her, just like he always did, he always stole away their attention, their love, their-

"NO!" she said suddenly, her own voice surprising her in its ferocity. It was a start contrast from the music-box like quality of the songs playing behind her. Bendy turned his gaze from the ride down to her. Confused.

Angry.

"I...I'm playing with Audrey right now!" Alice said. "Wait...wait your turn. You...you'll just scare her anyway!"

She'd never been scared of Bendy before. Well, maybe the first time she'd seen this nightly form. She still didn't understand why he took it. Now though, she really was scared. She could feel shivers run down her spine. She felt a bit clammy, too.

Bendy's mouth shook up and down, inches from Alice's face. He grabbed onto her arm and pushed her down. His grip hurt, his ink feeling like boiling water bursting over her skin. She wanted to scream but couldn't as a single word ricocheted through her mind, a noiseless voice that overwhelmed her senses.

**MINE**

Alice whimpered, and Bendy let go of her as the ride and music slowed to a stop. The timed spins had run out. The next guests in line could get ready to board, as soon as the previous guests left the ride. There were no waiting guests. Audrey could have gone again around the ride again if she wanted. But instead, she got confused when she couldn't see Alice anymore, and carefully climbed down from the horse, and made her way over to the control panel.

She froze mid-step when she saw Bendy.

He stopped too, as if only just now remembering what he looked like. They were both silent, and Audrey glanced from him, to Alice, then back to him, eyes and form both shaking.

"J-just smile, Audrey," Alice said from the ground. "It's...it's Bendy..."

Bendy's mouth shook up and down, opening to try to form words that he never could. He reached out for her, made the first move toward his friend, and Audrey immediately screamed. She stumbled backwards, falling on the ground and bursting into wails.

"DAAAADDYYYYY!" she cried, bawling over and over.

Bendy moved toward her, his chittering smile shaking. He tried to dance, tried to move one foot in front of the other, lift up his arm to spin, but this body was different from what it was during the day. Flawed. Broken. Imperfect. He wasn't used to dancing like this. He tripped, and fell toward her, and Audrey screamed again before curling up into a ball and refusing to move.

He stared at her. His hands were shaking. The ink around him seemed runnier, like water. Not quite as solid as it usually was, leaving black lines trailing down his face onto his mouth.

Deep below the earth, something started to roar.

Alice could have sworn she'd felt like this before. Scared of him. Ready to run, knowing the whole park was about to respond to his anger. Something deep inside of her, another voice, urged her to get up. To run away as fast as she could.

For once, she decided to listen.

She grabbed Audrey up into her arms and sprinted away from Bendy. She only looked back once, saw Bendy clawing at his head, ink ripped out and pooling around him on the ground, only to sink back into his legs. His form grew bigger, his arms swelling with ink seeping up through the cracks in the pavement, answering his call. Cracked pipes underneath the park swelled with even more ink, rising up, merging with him, making him bigger and bigger in shape. His eyes were obscured completely, and his mouth changed, painted teeth popping out and cracking to sharp fangs.

He roared, mouth turned up toward the sky in a guttural scream that was neither human nor animal. It sounded like thunder, like metal scratching on metal, the sound of pipes about to burst.

She turned away and picked up her pace, but she could hear him thundering after her. She could hear him gaining on them.

She was scared. This was true fear. Somehow, it was an emotion that felt both foreign and familiar at the same time. She knew she couldn't outrun Bendy forever.

"This way!"

She heard the voice but didn't see who it was from. It wasn't one of hers. She didn't have time to question it. She took a sharp turn toward the open door, nearly slipping on the cobblestone. Bendy barreled past her, crashing into a lamppost and park bench, ripping them completely off of the ground and sailing toward one of the park buildings. The light on the lamppost flickered and snapped, wires and sparks illuminating Bendy's new face, dripping with ink.

If this was during the day, Alice would have scolded Bendy for acting like a child, for throwing a temper tantrum because he wasn't getting his way. This was different, though. This tantrum could kill her.

Joey said toons don't die. So we shouldn't fear death, since we aren't really alive. Joey said they were just creations made of ink. Even if that were true for Alice, the same wasn't true for Audrey. Alice was going to protect her. No matter what.

Alice dove through the open door, and her savior slammed it shut behind them. She didn't have time to see who it was before she was pushed forward, still running, down a set of stairs and around the corner. She almost tripped, catching herself as Audrey whimpered and buried her head into Alice's shoulder, wet with tears now. She heard the closed door behind them crack open, and thundering down the steps after them. Bendy wasn't giving up this easily.

They made it to a rickety elevator Alice hadn't seen before, and they hurried inside. It shuddered a little under their weight, and the man with them whipped the gate shut and slammed a button on the side. The elevator started dropping fast, probably too fast, but it was just fast enough to escape Bendy. She saw him reach for them, claws barely missing the outside of the elevator, and then he was gone. They were descending further and further down. She could hear his roars above them. They continued even as they made their way down to the darkest depths of the studio.

Alice turned to Audrey, stroked her hair and shushed her tears, tried to offer small words of comfort. Audrey couldn't even bring herself to look at Alice, she was too busy crying and trembling. It made Alice's heart hurt. She felt her pain, her fear, and her sadness all at once. But she wasn't hurt, physically at least, and that was something.

Finally, Alice turned to the figure standing before her. She swallowed a bit of bile in her throat. Both voices in her head seemed angry.

The disfigured man let out a sigh of relief and sat down on the opposite end of the elevator. He scratched at his partially ink-covered head and grinned at her. He had horns sticking out of his head, pieces of a halo jutting out at odd angles, and a smile that made her heart hurt in so many different ways.

"I think as far as favors go...that brings us back up to two that you owe me, my little angel," Sammy said.

* * *

Henry and Tom looked up at the creaking ceiling with wide eyes. When the noises and roars had started, both men had froze, waiting to see if the thundering sounds would get closer, farther, or try to hear what exactly was causing them. One roar after another, loud enough to shake the wooden beams.

"That...none of that sounded good..." Tom muttered.

"I agree...let's get out of here," Henry said. "Do you have everything you need?"

Tom nodded, and the two rushed up the stairs.

Henry felt...how could he describe it? He knew something was wrong, that much was obvious by the groaning pipes and ink that occasionally seemed to drip upward. But there was something else. Some innate anxiety that he couldn't shake, an overwhelming feeling that he needed to find something, that something was wrong. He couldn't place it, but it made him sick. He never should have come here, that much was obvious, he should have just continued to play along with Joey's plans and ignore Tom, ignore all of this...

How long could he ignore this? How many times had he had this talk with himself? It was getting old.

How long could _Joey_ ignore this? How long could Joey keep pretending that everything was alright, that progress had brought them this far and progress would continue to take them to new heights instead of new lows? Did Joey ever think about the end, or was it always the next step with him? How far did he think he could go? Neither of them were getting any younger. Eventually, this would have to stop. Right? There's no way this could continue on forever. But what would happen at the end? Would this park crumble to dust, and Bendy and Joey with it? Or would things go out in a blaze, with mad ink demons roaming the streets?

God, Henry wanted this all to end. He wanted the restless nights to end, he wanted to love his life without feeling guilty, like he'd created a monster and left it to fester, he wanted to watch his daughter grow up and smile without feeling afraid and reminded of another of his creations...

Audrey. That made his heart clench. His palms get sweaty.

Was there something wrong with Audrey?

Tom and Henry reached the top of the stairs, spun around the corner, and screeched to a halt.

"W...what the hell is that?!" Tom shouted, and a monstrous Bendy turned around to face them. He snarled, showing teeth that Henry didn't even know he had. Whatever this creature was, it was so far beyond his Bendy. This was beyond a monster, beyond a demon or a devil, and had become something else entirely.

Bendy locked eyes with Henry, and his claws dug into the floor, pulling up wooden beams that sank into his claws and were absorbed by the ink.

"He looks really pissed at you, Henry," Tom said, taking a slow step back. "What'd you do to him?"

"I-I haven't done anything," Henry whispered, stunned to the spot when faced with this creature. "Is that...is that really even Bendy?"

Bendy's claws grew longer. Sharper. His jaw opened, teeth chattering and shaking with much more point and danger now.

"We...we need to leave..." Tom said.

Bendy growled lowly, tensing down to the ground, ready to jump.

"Now, now, NOW!" Tom said, and was shoving a frozen Henry back down the stairs, the only way to go. Bendy leaped toward them, grabbing Henry by the ankles and pulling him back up the stairs. Henry cried out in pain as Bendy's ink touched his skin, flashes of darkness and light swirling together in front of his eyes.

Tom reached out to grab him, but Bendy yanked him back again, away from the stairs, pieces of wood digging into his back, bigger and more painful than any splinters. He roared inches from Henry's face, loud enough for all other sound to turn into a dull ringing. He thought he might pass out from the pain and noise and fear. He didn't know why Bendy was so angry at him today, what had he possibly done? But he didn't have time to question it much longer. Bendy raised up a claw, one swipe could take Henry's head clear off, but a large crack sounded as Tom swung an axe at Bendy's head. He stumbled only slightly, and Tom gripped the axe with his one good hand and swung again.

"HENRY, GO!" Tom shouted. "GO TO THE EXIT!"

"But you-" Henry started, but Tom shoved him toward the door roughly before turning back to Bendy.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" Tom shouted. Henry could hear the fear, the desperation in his voice. To Tom, it was either both of them die for nothing, or one of them die for everything.

But Henry still wasn't going to leave them. He looked around the room for something, anything to help, when suddenly the ripped up boards at their feet started to creak and groan. Bendy and Tom both looked down as the boards split open, and a hole swallowed Bendy up and sent him tumbling down below, the combination of a heavy monster Bendy and cheap Joey Drew wooden flooring too much at once. He roared again as he went falling down, head over claw, down into the a darkness so deep, it looked like ink. Tom slipped, falling backwards, the planks beneath his feet giving out, and Henry dove toward him, reaching out for his hand. But instinct was hard to break, and Tom had reached toward Henry with his good hand.

The hand he didn't have anymore.

Henry grabbed nothing, and watched as Tom fell down into the darkness, his wide eyes afraid. Scared. Full of regret.

And then they were gone.

* * *

Linda pulled into the parking lot of Joey Drew Studios and got out almost immediately, slamming the car door behind her. This was it. This was the last place she thought they might be.

She knew Henry would be gone. He'd left a note. But she wasn't expecting Audrey to be gone too. She'd searched everywhere. _Everywhere._ Audrey had never run off before. But she loved her father. If she had overheard her father talking...

Linda wasn't stupid. She knew her husband didn't think she was, but there were a few things Henry thought Linda didn't know. Like something being wrong with the park.

She knew full well there was something wrong with the park. She wasn't naive. She knew there was something wrong the moment that Allison Pendle had stepped into their house, years ago, dripping wet from the rain, eyes afraid and nervous and ashamed all at the same time. She'd known when Henry would come home after "going out for the night" with eyes that looked like he'd seen a ghost. She knew when Henry would thrash in the middle of the night, screaming from nightmares she couldn't wake him from, unable to calm down under she cradled his head in her arms, whispered to him and stroked his head, and he'd grab onto her like she was the only solid thing in the whole world. She knew. She'd always known.

Linda was not a dumb woman. She was smart. But she also knew what her husband needed. She knew he needed a place to hide from his demons now and then. She knew he needed a way to be strong, something to fight for. So of course she'd played ignorant. Of course she pretended not to know why he looked so tired and so damn scared all the time.

This, however, had crossed the line. She could be strong for her husband. She could let him go fight his demons.

But she'd be damned if she'd let her daughter get dragged into whatever this was too.

Sure enough, she saw Henry's car parked, and Tom's a ways off as well. They were both here. Did Henry purposefully bring Audrey along with him? No. Maybe she had snuck along.

Both Henry and Audrey were going to be in a lot of trouble once Linda got a hold of them. She just...had to figure out how she was going to do that.

She sighed and sat on the hood of her car, staring at the locked gates with a frown.

Yeah, Linda wasn't dumb. But she hadn't exactly thought about how she was going to get into the locked park in the middle of the night, she just knew that's likely where her family was. She'd tried calling the police when she realized her daughter was missing, but they were surprisingly uninterested. When she mentioned Audrey might be at Bendyland, they actually hung up on her.

So yeah, there was definitely something wrong with Bendyland, and while Linda was perfectly content to play nice and ignorant while Henry was home and he battled his own demons, she was not going to sit idly by and wait for something to happen to her husband _and_ her daughter. That was the last straw. And if there really was something wrong with Bendyland, something that could take her whole family away from her, then she was going to be taken away with them.

That's just the kind of woman she was, she supposed.

Just as Linda was contemplating if she could scale the fence in her slippers, she hadn't the time nor mental foresight to change into sturdier shoes in her panic, another car pulled up alongside her. A nice car, far nicer than she or Henry could ever own, brand new, freshly washed and waxed, not a scratch on its solid black surface or tinted windows. The headlights flickered off as the door opened, and Joey Drew stepped out, straightening his tie. He turned to Linda, raised an eyebrow as if surprised, and then smiled.

"Well well, what are you doing here? And without Henry and Audrey, no less!" Joey said. "Have you lost something?"

"...yes," Linda said instinctively. "My, uh...Henry's car keys. We think we lost them in the park somewhere," she said, gesturing to Henry's car next to hers. "Henry wanted to catch a few more minutes of sleep, so I thought I'd come up here early to try to find them. I guess I just forgot how early the park opens," she admitted, giving him what she hoped was a convincing laugh.

Joey smiled. "Well, we can go in a little early! I have to say, you are one dedicated woman, Linda. It's nearly four o'clock in the morning! Most people are asleep at this hour, and it's far too early for a park to be open!"

"What can I saw, I love my husband," Linda said.

"Well then, let's go check lost and found, shall we?" Joey asked, and led her toward the park.

Linda tried to push aside the feeling that he was leading her to her doom. It sounded a bit too melodramatic for her liking.

And Linda was too smart to fall for such silly traps anyway.

* * *

**Sammy's baaaaack! You knew I couldn't keep that mad musician away for long!**

**Thank you again everyone for reading and reviewing, it means the world to me! Honestly, all of the reviews I got on the previous chapter about brought me to tears. You guys really have no idea how much joy your reviews and excitement bring me. I always get the biggest smiles reading your reviews!**

**And to FantasyToArt, thank you so SO much for offering to support my writing on a donation site of some kind. I really got choked up because it made me realize that people really DO believe in my writing abilities, so much so that people might even be willing to pay for it! That being said, I probably won't open up any sort of donations for my fanfictions, mainly because these stories are for my benefit as much as anybody else's, and it doesn't cost me anything to keep creating them! Seriously though, from the bottom of my heart, thanks for even offering! Kind words pay me back for every chapter I write!**

**Okay okay, sorry to get all mushy, but it really does mean a lot to me how many wonderful and dedicated followers and reviewers I have. I've had this fanfiction account for over five years, but only reactivated it recently because I wanted this site to remind me what my passion and my dream is: to become a published author. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it, and to get back into the habit of writing often. I told myself that even if people didn't like my writing, I could still take their criticism and improve. And I have received criticism, and I've been able to take it to improve and get better. What I wasn't expecting was the absolute flood of support and love I've received from my stories. Writing these stories has brought back my passion for the written word, for making people smile and go to the edge of their seats with excitement.**

**I AM going to become a full-fledged published author. You guys have really helped prove that to me, that my writing can carry its own weight, and I can achieve my dreams. I think it's finally time for me to take the first step into working on my novel again. I had put it aside for a while because...well, honestly, I was scared whether or not my writing could stand up in the real world, if it wasn't fanfiction characters. But I really think I can do it. At the very least, I'm going to try!**

**Of course, don't think this means I'll be taking any breaks from my fanfiction stories! On the contrary, Welcome to Bendyland Season 2 is only just getting started! So again, from the bottom of my heart,**

**THANK YOU ALL! :D**


	24. Chapter 24: All the Dark Puddles

**Part II Chapter 5: All the Dark Puddles**

When the elevator reached the bottom, it shuddered, and clacked to a stop. Alice let out the breath she'd been holding it. The rickety thing had acted like it might crash down with them in it at any moment, like birds in a birdcage. The man before them clicked a button, and the grate squeaked open. He turned back to her and smiled. "This way, my angel."

Alice gulped, and looked him up and down. She'd been doing that since the moment she'd laid eyes on him. She couldn't piece together what he was, or rather, what he was supposed to be. She thought maybe he was a human, maybe even a park employee, half of his face and hair revealed, almost calm and composed looking. She saw the workers clothes, caked in dried and age old ink, but the other half was more like her. Though she hated the comparison. He was covered in ink, dripping off of him in pools, like he was melting away down the middle. Horns stuck out of his head, horns like hers, but not quite right either. There was a halo too. That was...odd. She was the only toon with a halo. Perhaps he was a new character? That was a possibility. And if that were the case, she better do her best to remain polite and courteous. Even if his looks were very...off-putting. Yes. That was a better word than unpleasant.

"Excuse me," she said, following him down a dark hallway. "But, what is your name? Are you a toon? A new character perhaps?"

The man laughed. It felt a bit mocking. "You can call me Sammy. Let's just leave it at that for now...shall we?"

She didn't really want to leave it at that, but she also wasn't going to be disrespectful. Whoever this person was, he had saved her and Audrey from a rather unsavory end.

Bendy...she really was sorry that all had to happen. Hopefully once daylight arose, he'd be back to normal, and she could try to make amends. He couldn't stay mad at them forever after all!

Sniffling turned her attention downwards, and Audrey wiped at her eyes. A bit of ink was left on her hands, and she left a black smudge on her forehead. Alice bent down, taking the corner of her dress to wipe it away. "There, there, Audrey. You're doing very well! How very brave of you!"

"Monster," she mumbled. "That...was a monster chasing us..." Her eyes started to water. "So why'd you call him Bendy?"

Alice paused. How could she even begin to explain something so complex to a mere child? Especially when she barely understood it herself? She looked down at the little girl. Her eyes were wide. Begging. Pleading.

She cleared her throat and offered her best smile. "I-I'm sorry Audrey, I must have just been mistaken. Bendy is a cute little dancing demon! Not a monster!"

She had hoped that would make Audrey smile, but all she did was nod and go back to looking at the ground. "...I wanna go home."

"I know Audrey," Alice said. "I'm sure we'll find a way back up to the park soon. Right mister...Sammy?"

Sammy smiled. "Sure, I know a short-cut. Just a little further this way is all." He kept walking forward, down the dark halls where not even light bulbs illuminated their path. There was nothing here, nothing but occasional candles and wax stacked along the corners, their fires flickering and waving to them as they walked passed. Alice's hand over Audrey's tightened a little bit. If this really was a shortcut, why did it seem to Alice like they were going further down beneath the studio? Where even was this place? It was definitely deeper down than she'd ever been. She'd been down to the tunnels, down to the ink machine. But this...this was something else entirely.

Eventually, they reached a larger room with a cavernous ceiling. She would have thought it a cave, but the walls and ceiling were too smooth, and if she looked closely, she could see the metal and wood hovering over their head. In front of them was a large, deep black river. She halted in her tracks.

The ink. There was so much of it here. More than she'd ever seen.

She felt...strange.

"Miss Alice?" Audrey asked. Sammy paused too, looking over his shoulder at her. Alice's eyes were locked on the waters, locked on the way they rippled, so black, so deep, like it was pulling her in. Something inside of her was twisting, shifting, moving. It was calling to her, begging her just to step in, just one foot, just to touch it-

Sammy clamped a hand down on her shoulder, drawing her from her thoughts. She shook her head and looked over at him. He held a finger up to his lips. "Try to drown out those little voices. I know the dark puddles call, but trust me, you don't want to go in there. You'll never come out again." He stepped away from her, heading over to a boat docked at the river. Though, she supposed it was more of a raft. Planks and logs of wood tied together with string and hammered down, it barely seemed to hold Sammy's weight when he stepped onto it. "Come along," he said. "Just a little further. It'll hold, don't you worry."

"I don't wanna go on there," Audrey said. "The water smells bad."

Alice hadn't noticed honestly, but once Audrey brought it to her attention, she realized she was right. It was more putrid than regular ink, something more than just the chemical smell she was used to filling her lungs. This smell was earthier. Like...something was rotting.

"Come on Audrey," Alice said. "You can do it. Why don't we sing a little song? That'll make the trip go by faster. Is that alright?" she asked Sammy.

Sammy's smile widened. It made her shiver. "I'd love nothing more."

Audrey took a deep breath, and puffed out her cheeks. At first, Alice thought she was pouting, but she marched over to the boat and took Sammy's hand to hoist herself on board. So it was her brave face, then. Alice giggled. She headed over to the boat, and reached out for Sammy's outstretched hand. The second she touched it, she felt a ripple run through her. Voices shouting. One voice in particular. Memories of water, melting away, laughter, bright spotlights, and songs played over and over again. She jerked her hand back instinctively.

He looked down at his own hand, then back over to her. "Something wrong?"

"...have we...ever met before?" she asked.

He lunged, grabbing her arm and pulling her on board and close to him, too close, she didn't want to be this close, the voice screaming danger was even louder. He leaned down to her ear. "Many, many times..."

He grabbed a large pole attached to the side of the boat, probably a pipe at some point, and thrust it into the water. Their raft pushed away from the dock, and whether Alice liked it or not, she was stuck on this tiny raft with him until they reached their destination. She knew she probably shouldn't have trusted a stranger. But she wasn't sure what else to do. So she decided to put at least a bit of her faith in him, however misguided it might be.

Their boat ride started off quiet. Too quiet. Alice could already hear the voices of the water. Whispering to her. It was like a strange siren song, pulling her in. Her heart beat wildly as if in fear, but her head was clouded. What was wrong with this ink?

_"I'll be your angel, sent from heaven above, your little angel, cast out for you to love!"_

Audrey's singing pulled her away this time. The little girl was standing on the edge of the boat, hands clasped in front of her to stop them from shaking. She looked at Alice expectantly.

Alice sat down on the boat, and Audrey crawled to sit in her lap. "_I'll be your angel, fit me just like a glove, so won't you save a prayer to me, ba-by!"_

Even Sammy started humming at some point, bobbing his head in tune with the beat. By the time they finished their song, they had almost reached the end of the river, and the voices in the dark ink had been completely drowned out.

"We're almost there now," Sammy said.

Alice nodded, though she wasn't sure if Sammy could see her. In the middle of the river, not even candles lit their way. It was dark. Too dark. She could hardly tell up from down. All she could hear was the rhythmic splashes as Sammy's pipe went up and down in the river, pushing their boat along. Up and down, like the horse on the carousel.

"I see light!" Audrey said, pointing in front of them. Alice could hear the smile in her voice. She stood, and picked Audrey up in her arms. The boat continued forward, and when they broke through the light, the hope in Alice's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach.

"What is this place?" she whispered in horror.

It was a city. Or at least, that's the only way her mind could comprehend it. Buildings made of wood and pipe stacked into corners, clotheslines draped from wall to wall. Walkways and pathways carved into dirt and more wood, scribbled messages on the wall, and everything lit up by the giant bonfire in the middle, large and bright enough to reach even their boat as they pulled into the shabby harbor.

And the people...

They were people. Right? Hundreds of them. Maybe more. But at the same time, Alice couldn't call them that. Lumbering, hovering figures, drenched in ink from head to toe, barely any physical features visible. They huddled in the shadows or crept closer to the light. They hung from the roofs of the buildings, or walked about the paths below, their footsteps leaving inky puddles. Their eyes glowed gold, some light from within giving them a meager facial feature. Some were larger, some smaller, some the size of children. Even from this far out, she could hear them groaning or muttering to themselves, desperate cries to no one in particular, cursing their fate, begging to be released from their suffering.

Audrey whimpered and buried her head in Alice's shoulder. She didn't blame her. She wanted to run and hide too. This scene was terrifying.

"What's wrong, Susie? Don't you recognize them?" Sammy asked. "Some of them you brought here yourself..."

Susie. That name made a chill run down her spine.

"What is this place?" she whispered.

Their boat hit the dock, nearly knocking her off of her feet. Sammy stepped off the boat, and all eyes turned to them instantly. But nobody moved. She could feel their glares, their tensed forms, the way their hands reached for weapons made of shrapnel and rubbish. But they didn't take a step toward them.

"I would suggest staying close," Sammy said. "I can keep them at bay. But I doubt for long. Why don't we head on over to my sanctuary, hm? Then I'll explain everything. What this place is, and, more importantly, who you are, Alice."

"Who...I am?" she asked. "I know who I am."

"No, you don't," Sammy said. "You don't know a thing about anything, little angel."

Alice trembled. She tried to stop it. She didn't want Audrey to know just how scared she really was. She had no choice. Following this man was a mistake. She knew it when she first made the choice, but she held onto hope. That hope had led her straight to hell. She stepped off the boat, and followed Sammy up to his sanctuary.

* * *

Henry didn't waste any time after he watched Tom fall. He knew he needed rope. A lot of rope. If he was going to climb down to the bottom level and try to find him, he'd probably need other supplies too. Supplies he'd only find at the studio. He still had a few hours until sunrise. Maybe there was still time. He kept telling himself that, driving himself forward as he raced toward the studios. He got lost a few times. Forced himself to slow down. Stop panicking. Deeper breaths. It was so much easier said than done. Tom's face just kept replaying over and over in his mind, the exact moment that he realized he was falling. Possibly falling to his death.

No.

Right?

He couldn't...

Henry took a deep breath. It felt shaky in his lungs. He nearly coughed, but swallowed it down.

They'd gotten through worse. Henry had seen it. But how many times was fate going to let them off the hook? How many times would each of them be able to dance around death?

Henry didn't know how far down Tom had even fallen. A few stories? Ten? More? He didn't know. If it was too far, it didn't matter what awaited at the bottom, Tom would die. His body wasn't made of ink anymore. Even if it was, a fall from too far up would be impossible to fix.

Even if he was dead, Henry had to know for sure. He had to find his body. But he hoped, he prayed, something he hadn't done in a really long time if he was being honest, that Tom was somehow, miraculously still alive. That fate would grant them one more miracle. Just one.

As Henry stood up from his break and kept running, he knew even asking for one more miracle would be a lie. They'd always ask for another one. Tom wouldn't stop trying to put an end to this park and save Allison until he was dead. That's all there was too it. So if Henry got to the bottom of that hole, and found nothing but Tom's remains, then they didn't need anymore miracles, and fate could lay claim to him and their hopes. If Tom was still alive, then miracles were still pouring in, and Tom would keep going until they ran out.

"...is Henry's desk! Has he ever showed you where he works before?"

"No, I can't say that he has. My husband is quite a private man, you see."

Henry stopped mid step. His whole body felt cold.

Linda?

He heard her sigh, and peeked around the corner. Had he already ran back to his office? Sure, he'd gotten lost, and he knew he was running fast, but he must have been running far faster than he thought if he was already back here. Adrenaline must have pushed him beyond what he thought possible. And there she was, his wife, his beautiful wife, staring at Henry's desk next to Joey Drew.

What was she doing here? Had Joey taken her? No, their stances were calm. Poised. Relaxed. Linda was maybe a little tense, but she was playing it off well, laughing at Joey's jokes and digging around in his desk looking for something. What were they looking for?

"I swear, I can't believe my husband forgot his keys. He really is such a scatterbrain, you know," Linda said.

Keys? Henry hadn't forgotten his keys.

"Well, I'm sure he has a lot on his mind right now, since we're looking at working on a Bendy movie soon!"

"A movie! Wow, no wonder he's so tired! You better not overwork him, Mister Drew," Linda said with a smile. She turned. Caught Henry's gaze around the corner. Their eyes met.

The smallest of nods. The tightest of smiles. And one mouthed word.

_Audrey._

The panic in her eyes reflected his own. Where was Audrey?

His wife didn't call him out. She didn't question why he was sneaking around, out of sight, or covered in scrapes and ink. His eyes shifted to Joey, and she gave another nod in understanding.

"You know, maybe they are still at home somewhere, though I could have swore I looked everywhere," Linda said with a laugh. "But I have to say, I am just fascinated by this place! I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a tour, Joey? I know so few people get to be back here, but this is where all the magic started! The place where dreams come true!"

Joey hesitated, or at least, acted like he was hesitating. Henry could already see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He'd made his decision. What a better way to prove an upper hand to Henry, than to tour his wife around the place keeping him prisoner?

"Of course!" Joey said. "We've still got time before the park opens, and I'd just hate for you to come all this way empty-handed! Let's take a walk then, Miss Stein!"

Joey put his arm around Linda and led her out of the room. Linda didn't look back at Henry, but she didn't need too.

How long had she known? That there was something going on, behind the scenes? Had she always known? Or had she seen the desperation in Henry's eyes, and didn't question it?

Either way, he was a lucky man.

Once Joey and Linda left, Henry made quick work. He knew there was spare rope somewhere around here, left over from construction work that was never done. He grabbed it, but felt his hands shaking.

Audrey was somewhere in the park. How? Had Linda come to look for him and brought her along?

No. This wasn't the first night he'd disappeared without a trace. She wouldn't come looking for him after just being gone a night.

But if Audrey was missing too...

Henry's heart sank into his stomach.

She'd snuck along.

She must have heard Henry and Tom talking about going to the park after dark, and decided to hide in his car and come with them. That had to be it. How could he be so stupid? How could he not know his own daughter was in the car with him? Was he that nervous, that distracted? Was she still in the car? No, Linda would have checked. That had to be why she was here.

So then...where was she?

Henry looked down at the rope in his hands.

If Tom was alive, he was going to need help.

But Audrey was alone. Probably scared. In a park where Bendy and the other toons could steal her away.

He clenched the rope so tightly, his fingernails dug into his skin.

"Wait for me, Tom," Henry whispered, and turned around to head back into the park.

He needed to find his daughter.

* * *

Alice wasn't sure what to think when they made it up to Sammy's studio. It was nicer than the rest of the shambled village she'd walked through. There were a few couches, candles actually sitting on stands, books on a rickety bookshelf, and even an old record player that seemed in good condition despite occasionally skipping a note or two. There were audio tapes as well, scattered about the floor, the shelves, even one on the couch, all marked with different names, most of which she didn't recognize.

Audrey let go of her hand and plopped down on one of the couches, immediately curling up and clutching a pillow. Alice turned to her. "Stay right here for a while, okay? I'm going to talk to Sammy and try to find us a way back up to the park."

Audrey nodded, looking like she could fall asleep at any moment. Alice didn't want to let her out of her sight, but Sammy was already walking deeper into his sanctuary, and Alice needed answers. She followed him to a writing desk, with messages in ink scrawled across the wall.

**THE PUDDLES CALL TO US**

**WAIT FOR THE INK DEMON**

**THE ANGEL WILL LEAD US TO HEAVEN**

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Sammy took a seat at the desk, pushing aside half-written music sheets to turn and look at her. "...you don't look much like Allison. You don't look much like Susie, either. But I know they're both inside you...waiting for me."

"You're mistaken," Alice said, lifting her head up. "I am Alice Angel. I was born from the mind of Joey Drew, and created from the Ink Machine."

"Yeah?" Sammy asked. "Is that what Joey told you? Or is that what you remember?"

She paused.

Remembering her awakening was...tricky. She can't really remember when she came into existence. But her first memory was of watching the cartoons. Watching Alice Angel sing on the screen, those songs feeling like a part of her, a deeper part of her soul, and some deep understanding that that was who she was. Then she remembered talking with Joey. He explained who she was. Where she came from. But she didn't remember emerging from the ink machine. And she didn't know how Joey had managed to do it. She didn't ask. Did this man, Sammy, know how?

"What does it matter?" Alice asked. "I'm the Angel Sent From Above. It doesn't matter how I got here."

"You aren't even the least bit curious?" Sammy asked. He smiled, and grabbed an audio tape from the desk. He fiddled with it in his hands. "Susie...I know you're in there somewhere...I've been dying to talk to you again. Won't you come out and talk to me?" He clicked play.

_"I'm the cutest little angel sent from above, and I know just how to swing~ I've got a bright new halo and I'm filled with love, I'm Alice Angel!"_

Of course she knew the song. It was a part of her.

So why didn't she recognize the voice singing it?

_"I'm the hit of the party, I'm the belle of the ball, I'm the toast of every town. Just one little dance and you know I'll fall, I'm Alice Angel!"_

Her head hurt. Something felt wrong. Something was twisting in her gut. She couldn't breath. Her throat felt tight, like hands were clenched around her vocal cords, squeezing them, begging to know why the voice wasn't hers, why everything was wrong. It was loud in her ears, pounding, screaming, like every part of her was crying and asking why, why it was wrong, why it felt so wrong?

"Turn it off," she whispered. "Turn it off, turn it off, TURN IT OFF!"

Sammy flicked the switch. The recording buzzed and clicked to a stop. She could still hear that voice echoing in her ears. She pressed her hands against her head, willing it to stop, willing for the room to stop spinning, for the voices arguing in her mind to just shut up for a moment...

She didn't notice Sammy crossing the room, or putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Her name was Susie," he whispered.

Alice stopped and looked up at him. There it was again. That madness in his eyes. The way they looked at her and through her at the same time. And the way his mouth twisted into a smile that looked too tight, like the muscles pulling his lips apart were stretched and about to crack.

"She's still in there," Sammy said. "So is Allison. And Alice too. All the women I've ever loved...all coming together to form the perfect angel, sent straight. From. Above."

She still couldn't breathe. She still felt like words wouldn't rise up from her throat. But she forced them anyway.

"I'm Alice," she croaked.

Her own voice sounded wrong. It didn't sound like hers anymore.

"Yes," Sammy said, grasping her head in his hands. "You ARE Alice! You're the perfect angel. Those voices in your head is every angel that needed to be sacrificed to form the perfect goddess...you. So don't be scared of those voices! They're a part of you! Joey gave them up! He threw them in the ink machine, let the ink purge them of their imperfections, filling their lungs and insides with it, the living ink! It flows through these halls, through the pipes, it's everywhere and nowhere, all at once, all coming together to form you! To form you, and Bendy, and Boris...the creation of the gods...God made man...and now we've made you...So we become the gods..." Sammy said, his voice trailing off into mutterings that Alice couldn't focus on anymore. Her head was still spinning. She needed something to be stable. She needed something to keep herself together. She felt like she was coming apart at the seams.

There was another click. Another audio tape. The same song, but this time, it was her voice. She felt herself coming back down, grounded back. Sammy set the two audio tapes side by side, and gave her a moment to compose herself. It was her voice. Right? It still sounded sounded a little different. But, it was her. She mouthed the words, but didn't dare sing along in case her voice came out wrong.

Alice. Alice Angel. That's who she was. Quite a gal. Sent from above. Yes.

She took a deep, shaky breath.

And then Sammy stopped the tape, and clicked play on both of them at the same time.

"Susie and Allison," he whispered. "Singing together, just for me."

To anyone else, it would sound like two women just singing in harmony.

To Alice, it was agony.

"I SAID STOP IT!" Alice screamed, and lunged herself across the room at Sammy. He fell to the ground, and she screamed at him, screamed in his face loud enough to block out the two voices singing above, their voices alike, but too different, too wrong, the wrong voice the wrong melody, everything was wrong because it was her voice, exactly her, but nothing like her all at once. She rose her fist, felt it connect with Sammy's head, again and again. She reached up and grabbed the tapes, slamming them onto the ground, the voices scratching and screeching to a halt, pieces of plastic and metal and tape flying about the room. Sammy struggled to push her off of him, an admittedly easy feat, but before he could gather himself, she was running.

Out of his sanctuary. Deeper into the village. She felt the eyes of those villagers staring at her.

What did they see?

Did they see a monster? An angel? Did they see the imperfect beast rising up inside of her? Their gazes were too much. She craved the gazes of crowds, the adoring eyes of fans and children. Their love for their perfect angel.

Right now, she couldn't bare a single soul to lay an eye on her. Each gaze felt like a knife. Like a thousand spotlights, heat burning her up from the inside out. If they weren't going to look at perfection, she didn't want them to look at all.

Toons don't need to eat. They don't need to sleep. They barely need to rest. So Alice ran. She ran. And ran. And ran. And didn't stop.

* * *

Audrey hadn't seen Alice run off. She'd headed out a back way, not the same way they'd come in. But she'd heard Alice scream. She'd heard her scream again and again, like a wild animal. She heard the thumps and crashing sounds of Alice and Sammy fighting. And she'd heard her footsteps get softer and softer.

She peeked into the room to make sure. She was right. Alice was gone, and that horrible looking monster, Sammy, was clutching his head and groaning in pain, bending down to pick up the leftover pieces of a broken machine.

Audrey was smart enough to know not to stick around. She wanted to cry. Alice had left her. She'd run off. And Audrey was scared, but she knew she couldn't stay.

Her daddy always said the same thing. If she was ever lost and scared, she needed to find a place to hide, and wait until he found her.

So Audrey went to find a place to hide.

She didn't want to stay in the city. She thought about trying to find Alice again. But those screams scared her. She didn't really want to find Alice. She wanted her dad. She felt tears bubbling up in her chest again, but she puffed out her cheeks. She was brave. She was a big girl. She wasn't going to cry. She was going to find a place to hide, and wait for her daddy to find her.

Most of the lost ones were distracted by Alice's screams, and the sight of the angel running away. It was the perfect cover for Audrey to slip away unnoticed. She followed a trail of candles, but soon came to the same, big river as before. She looked around. There was no one in sight. The city was behind her. The river was big and empty. There wasn't even any place to hide.

She puffed out her cheeks. She did her best. But tears were dripping down her cheeks anyway.

She stopped when she heard movement behind her. Something rustling in the darkness. She stood up. "...w-whatever you are, you better leave me alone, or you'll be sorry! I'm brave!" she said. "A-and my daddy's gonna come find me any minute!"

The rustling stopped. Audrey could just barely make out a figure around the candlelight. It shifted. Like it was hiding from her. She took a step forward, suddenly curious about what it could be. Instead of finding a person, though, she was face to face with a Bendy cutout. She blinked in confusion.

Then the cutout moved. It moved further out into the open, but didn't dare get closer to her. She could see a figure behind it, holding it in front of its face and body with one inky hand, and one hand covered with a white glove. It held the cutout firmly in front of it, and every time Audrey made a step closer, it took a step back. If she approached it from the right, it turned to match her, so she could never see what was hiding behind it.

She stomped her foot. "Stop it! Stop hiding!"

The figure froze.

"Why are you hiding behind Bendy?" she asked, and crossed her little arms.

The figure pointed to the cutout's chest, then behind the cutout at itself.

Audrey was quiet. She didn't really understand. "...put it down," she said, trying to sound like her mom. After all, nobody ever disobeyed mom.

The hands holding the cutout shifted, and slowly lowered the cutout and placed it to the side. Bendy's monstrous face stared back at Audrey. His smile was quiet and still, not a speck of movement to be seen.

Audrey whimpered for a moment, but then looked closer. "Bendy?"

The ink demon's mouth clattered up and down wordlessly.

"...you're scary," Audrey said.

Bendy nodded. He tried to dance again. This time, it looked a little better.

Audrey giggled. It was a little forced. But then she smiled. "Are you really...Bendy?"

It nodded again.

Audrey was confused. But her momma always said to never let appearances deserve her. Or...was it deceive? She never really understood the words. But she think it meant not to let scary things be scary all the time.

"Bendy...I'm lost. And I'm scared," she said. "I...I wanna go home. I want dad. Can you take me to him?"

He hesitated. She could see his mouth shivering. Trying to decide.

"Please?" she asked.

Bendy reached out his gloved hand, and Audrey took it. He was much taller than her now. But...he was still Bendy. He looked down at her. He looked happy. She thought he did anyway. She smiled, and followed him through more tunnels, out of sight of the candles, leaving the cardboard cutout forgotten and left behind.

* * *

**Longer chapter this time, but it took me a bit longer than usual to get all my thoughts on the page. Thanks for your patience, and as always, let me know what you think in the review section!**

**Also, go check out FantasyToArt's AWESOME fanart of Welcome to Bendyland! Unfortunately, FanFiction won't let me copy and paste links, but go check it out on Insta gram under FantasyToArt! Serious, they're an amazing artist and deserve all the respect and praise!**


	25. Chapter 25: He's Just a Brute

**Part II Chapter 6: He's Just a Brute**

Wally Franks. The janitor. The man who cleaned up Joey's messes. In case anybody was wonderin', this studio had a whole lotta messes. A whole lotta stuff that Wally had to keep clean. And he wasn't just talkin' about the floors.

No. Wally was the cleanin' man. And as much as he wished he could just waltz right on outta those front gates and never look back, he knew he couldn't. It was nice to pretend he could, though. It was nice to tell himself that he was always one step away from freedom, from leaving this whole, twisted, inky world behind him.

Cleaning up Joey's messes was hard work. Really hard.

Joey didn't have time to cover up every missing person. He didn't have time to pay off the police, or cover up stories for the news. Nah, Joey didn't have time for that. But Joey assumed Wally had all the time in the world.

Jerk. Joey and this whole park could kiss his ass for all he cared.

Maybe that was why Wally was always lettin' Tom and Allison and Henry into the park after dark. He never really knew what they was doing. He didn't really ask. If he knew, he might have ta clean up them next. He really didn't want that. So he kept on playin' dumb, the ignorant janitor who lost his keys and just wanted to leave. Truth was, he cleaned up more than just missing people, the park, and the ink. He cleaned up a lot of things. Somebody had to be the gatekeeper. The guard, kinda. Someone had to make sure that the missing people, well...that they stayed missing. Cause they couldn't just leave.

Not after what Bendy and that ink machine did to 'em.

The man on Wally's break room couch groaned and shifted slightly. Looks like he might be waking up soon.

Wally sure as heck wasn't expecting to find anybody in that river when he was doing his rounds down below the studio, making sure nobody was gettin' out, misbehaving. Stuff he hated doing. When he saw movement in the river at first, he almost looked away. It wasn't uncommon for all sorts of things to fall down those drainage grates from the park up above. Small animals, birds...sometimes things that were even bigger. They'd fall down, and if the fall didn't kill 'em, the ink sure as heck would. Nobody could really fish 'em out of the ink though. The ink would swallow them whole, swallow them down into the depths, how far down even Wally didn't know, churning and mixing and stewing them altogether like one big foul-smelling soup. And it sure as hell wasn't bacon flavored.

So yeah, when Wally saw movement, his first instinct was to look away. He didn't wanna watch some poor little bird or something struggle to hold onto a life that was already being stolen away by the ink. But when he saw a hand reach out from the ink, well, Wally just about jumped right out of his skin. His scream probably scared the whole dang neighborhood of lost ones. Tom had been nearly entirely submerged in that ink, covered in it from head to toe. He wouldn't have even recognized him if it weren't for his missing arm. That was kinda a dead giveaway.

Golly...Wally wasn't really sure how Tom survived falling into that river...nothing else ever had. How did he even get in the river anyway? It's not like Tom could fit down a sewage drain. And the state of him...that ink had gotten places it wasn't supposed to go. Tom had been coughing the stuff up for hours. Would he even survive? Golly. Just...golly.

Tom and Wally had never exactly been...friends. Sure, they were cordial to each other. But Tom made no secret of the fact that he didn't like Wally going around and touching all of his stuff that he was working on. Tools and pipes and whatnot. But it wasn't Wally's fault! He had to clean! But no, Mister Conner didn't really seem to remember that. They used to really get into it back in the day, back when it was just a few of them. Wally and Henry and Sammy and Tom, and even Miss Susie too. Those were the days...back when they kept on going, milking the studio for every dime it would give them, knowing deep down it wouldn't last forever. They'd put up with Joey's schemes and scowls because they knew any day now, any day at all, the studio would go belly up and they could take their last paycheck and find work elsewhere. It wasn't easy to find other work, no, but that was just the nature of life back then. They always had to be ready to find new work. And they were grateful for the work they had in the meantime.

Besides, it wasn't like it was hard to find work as a janitor. Everybody needed something clean.

But...that's not what happened. The studio didn't just flop over and die. Things got better. A lot better. People from Gent started pouring in, that big ole ink machine got installed, and then suddenly the park was souring, everybody who was anybody wanted to come and visit. And those little toons that Joey created, well, they were just the bee's knees, weren't they?

For about a week, Wally was really starting to enjoy his job. He was happy Joey Drew Studios had gotten off the ground.

Then...then a little boy went missing.

And Joey approached Wally with a cleanup request.

Tom groaned again on the couch, and Wally cautiously approached. It'd taken him forever to haul Tom out of the river and get him up to the break room. Even longer to try to wash off at least some of that awful ink. He'd had to go to his breakroom on the lower levels, ain't no way he could carry Tom up them stairs, and Joey gave him a break room on the lower and upper levels. He coulda tried the elevator, but...

Well...Wally's job was to keep things clean. Clean up messes. And, well, Tom was sure a mess. He didn't hate Tom. But he was scared to death of Joey. So for now, he'd have to wait and see just how big of a mess Tom was in.

"...-lison..." Tom muttered. "Alli...son..." He started retching, and Wally jumped back. Whelp. There goes more ink. Guess it was better out than in. This time though, after he finished gettin' sick, Tom blearily opened his eyes. "W...Wally? That you?"

"H-hey there, Tom!" Wally said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Quite, uh...quite a bit of ink you got on you, there."

"...where...where am I?" Tom asked. "Why...the hell do I hurt all over?"

"You're in my break room," Wally explained. "I pulled you out of the ink river. You know? That big ole river beneath the studio, where ink and rainwater all mix together? You was drownin' in there. I thought you was dead til you reached up and nearly scared me half to death...how'd you get in there anyway?"

"I...fell," Tom said, struggling to remember. "Henry and I...Bendy found us. He...he attacked us. The floor gave way, a-and I fell down...that's all I remember," Tom said.

"Well you better count your blessings then, Mister Conner," Wally said. "If you wouldn't have hit water, that fall woulda killed yah. I'm not really sure hittin' the water was any better though. That ink ain't good for you."

"I'm aware," Tom grunted, struggling to sit up and catch his breath. He looked wobbly, like he might pass out again, so Wally rushed to get him a glass of water. Tom grabbed it and glugged it down in just a few gulps.

"...you...you was one of them Boris's, weren't you?" Wally asked.

Tom flinched, and looked up at him. In hindsight, Wally supposed the question did kinda seem to come outta nowhere. But it would make a lot of sense. "...I thought you didn't know about all of that."

"I know a lotta things, Mister Conner," Wally said softly. "Lotta things I wish I didn't know. Done a lotta things I'm not proud of either. But we all gotta do what we have to in order to survive."

Tom sighed. "Yes. I was a Boris. A long time ago."

"But...you ain't anymore?" Wally said.

"No."

"...well, why ain't you-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Tom said sharply.

Wally's mouth snapped closed. It was rude. Wally wanted to get mad about it. But beneath the harshness of Tom's voice, there was a crack. Something in his voice that sounded so broken. Before Wally could speak again, Tom quietly spoke.

"I don't remember how I became a Boris. I just was. Bendy dragged me off. Probably to the ink machine. I turned back because Bendy somehow took all of the ink back out of me. I don't know how. And I don't like to think about," Tom said. Each word sounded strained. Forced. Like he might crack at any moment.

"...did you...come down here looking for Miss Allison?" Wally asked. "I know you fell, but you'd still have to be down pretty low to be right above the river. And I...I know she's been missin' for a while. But I can tell you, she ain't down here. I...I keep track of everybody who's down here, you know. I clean up Joey's messes."

"No, I know she isn't down here. She's..." Tom swallowed. "She's Alice."

"Shoulda guessed...figured something had to change after that new Alice Angel got so pretty and sweet." Wally took a seat next to Tom. "...listen, Tom, I...I can't really let you go back up to the top of the park until I make sure you didn't...I mean, that ink you swallowed in the river...i-it's bad. I know you were a Boris, so you know what it's like a little, but this ink here? It's...it's different. The ink in that river, i-it's like dilluded. The ink machine produces good ink, to make the toons, but there's some bad ink too, some sort of foulness it gives off. It's like...it's like junk of some kind. It all gets washed up here. People who touch that ink, or get that ink in them, they don't turn out so well."

"What do you mean?" Tom asked. His eyes were a little afraid.

"Well...since you've been here after dark, you know that the old Alice used to be kinda a mess, right?" Wally asked.

"I remember," Tom said.

"Right. Well, that's cause she couldn't stay away from the river. Well, it was a puddle more like it. But even just a puddle messed her up real bad. The toons are fragile things, Mister Tom. I don't know exactly how Joey does it. You probably know more than me. But I know that good toons come from the good ink. And bad toons come from the bad ink. Bendy? He was Joey's first. Before Joey knew how to use the good ink. Well...how to use _people_ and the good ink together. But Bendy was just all ink. He was good ink and bad ink all mixed into one. And the thing that came out, you know, it ain't right. It can be good to people, but most of the time? That thing is bad to its core."

"So what you're saying is, since I've swallowed some of that...that bad ink. You're saying something could happen to me?" Tom asked.

Wally nodded. "Now I...I don't know for sure. Maybe nothin'll happen. Maybe...maybe you'll start to turn back into a toon again."

Tom's hand curled into a fist.

"...but you can't leave until I know."

Wally braced himself. He was scared that Tom was going to put up a fight. Start swinging. Wally wasn't really a fighting man, he'd get whooped by somebody big and strong like Tom.

"...ya got any tools down here I could use?" Tom asked.

"H-huh?" Wally stuttered.

"Tools. Pliers, wrenches, screwdrivers and screws, bit of metal," Tom said, a little condescendingly, and Wally huffed.

"Yes of course I do! You don't have to be rude!" Wally said, and walked over to his supply closet. "Why do you need them anyway? You aren't gonna try to hit me upside the head, are you?"

"No," Tom said. "But back when I was Boris, I got damaged. Lost an arm."

"You don't say," Wally said, rolling his eyes.

Tom flipped him off while his back was turned. "Yeah, well, I worked together with Allison and Henry to make a new arm. We used ink, probably some of the good ink, and metal to make me a new arm. It only worked while I was Boris, because ink is what held it all together. Once I turned back into a human, the arm didn't work anymore." Tom frowned and put his hand to his chin. "But...if I got ink back inside me, it's gonna try to take shape somehow I reckon. And I certainly don't want it to turn me back into a Boris. I'm hoping I didn't swallow _that_ much ink. If I can give it a place to go though, give it something to do..."

"Then maybe you can use it to your advantage," Wally said, turning around with tools in his hands. "Gee, you really are somethin' smart, Mister Conner! But...if you're right, you still won't be able to go back up to the surface...everybody would notice an arm made out of ink."

"And you're gonna try to stop me?" Tom growled.

Wally gulped.

Here he was again. He had a choice to make. He could give Tom his tools, let him do what he wanted, and probably make Tom even stronger than he is now. But then, Tom would try to leave. And if word got out that Tom was with Wally, and Joey found out...Wally'd be dead. Or maybe even worse than dead.

"...you and Allison. And Henry too. You were planning on taking down this park once, right?" Wally asked. "...would you still do it? Even if Allison is Alice now?"

Tom gritted his teeth. "...I'm gonna save her. And I'm gonna tear the park down too. This whole park is evil. It hurt me. It hurt Allison. And it's still hurting people, even now. She wanted to stop this place so bad. More than I did. So I'll find a way."

Wally was quiet. He walked over to Tom, and handed him his tools.

"...how can I help?" Wally said.

Tom smiled.

Wally Franks. The janitor. The man who cleaned up Joey Drew's messes, murders, and scummy underhanded dealings. The man who kept up Joey's image at the cost of his own moral compass. The man who had seen so many things, he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept without a nightmare.

It was time to clean up Joey's biggest mess of all, he reckoned.

* * *

It took hours. Calling it painful was an understatement. Having that ink back inside of him scared Tom senseless. For the most part, he didn't feel any different. But the more he thought about it, the more he self-examined, the more scared he became.

Something was definitely wrong.

For starters...he really shouldn't have survived that fall. What if he didn't? Or rather, what if he had only just barely survived?

The ink had healed someone before.

Tom thought to Alice. Where was she? Was she getting ready for her next show? His spot by the bar would be empty for today's show.

His stomach turned into knots. But maybe it really wasn't his stomach. Maybe it was something else. He'd felt nauseous since he'd woke up. His body was rejecting the ink. He felt hot on the inside, but his body couldn't stop shivering like it was cold, goosebumps popping up all over his skin.

How could the ink machine turn a human into a toon so easily? Well, relatively easy...he'd helped make the damn thing, but that didn't really mean he understood how it worked. He knew the components, the relative structure. It's not like making ink was hard really, he'd just ramped up the production on a massive scale. But that living ink? He'd had no part in that. He didn't know where it came from, what it was, or how it worked. Maybe GENT knew, or maybe only Joey knew. Maybe Joey had sold his soul for secrets. It was hard for Tom to imagine a hell more horrible than the one he'd been living in lately, but if such a place did exist, he hoped Joey got sent to the deepest, darkest part of it. That ink demon too, and anybody else who had let this corruption take hold of them.

Tom looked over at his new arm.

He might be sent to hell too once all was said and done. He wasn't really sure what all the rules were to gettin' out of it. As long as he could save Allison first...maybe then it'd be worth it.

And getting to see Joey writhing in pain all the time might not make hell so bad...

"You sure this is a good idea? That don't look like no Boris' arm," Wally said, scratching his head and looking down at the creation they'd both managed to cough up.

Tom tested out the hand. Squeezed the thick, four fingers that felt too large and cartoonish for his liking. How could he even begin to describe what his new arm looked like? It was nothing like his old Boris arm. Maybe it had something to do with the tainted ink? It was awful. Large and hulking, almost too heavy to lift. They'd had to attach it to the rest of his body with metal and pipes, and it was barely able to move under his own command. Ink spat out like blood from an open wound, and he sighed. "It's far from perfect..."

"Yeah, but how do you feel? Do you think it's working, you know, to keep you from being corrupted or whatever?" Wally asked.

The arm twitched. It felt all kinds of wrong and odd and heavy and...ugh. He hated it. But the twisting in his stomach had died down, and he hadn't started hearing voices. So...that was probably a good thing. He was worried that maybe he'd go back to how he was before, as the old Boris, just...mindless and thoughtless, unable to remember his name or Allison or anything. But no. His mind seemed to be okay, though it was hard to trust it. Odd, not being able to trust yourself. But for now, the arm was working. And more than that, it felt...strong. Stronger than a regular Boris arm would be. He'd instructed Wally to reinforce the thing with metal and pipes and all kinds of stuff inside of the ink as well, to keep it sturdy. The way it was, he felt like he might be able to tear apart a few things.

"Better," Tom finally answered. "I guess."

"I still can't let you leave," Wally said. "Granted, we've got that corrupted ink somewhat under control, but it isn't exactly normal looking..."

"I thought you said you wanted to help me end this park?" Tom asked.

"Well, yeah, but if you fail, I got no way to get outta here for good, and I sure as hell am not puttin' my ass on the line," Wally said. "My help starts and ends with me still stayin' safe and out of Joey's line of fire. You get me?"

Tom sighed and rolled his eyes. "I could probably just knock you out and leave anyway...this arm feels pretty tough."

"Yeah. But you won't," Wally said. "Though you do look like kinda a brute. Heh. Brute Boris. That's a funny thought."

"Enough of that," Tom said. "...so now what?"

"Whattaya mean?" Wally asked.

"Well, you've made it pretty clear you don't want me to leave," he said. "So what do we do now? Walk around underneath the park aimlessly?"

Wally hummed. "...hard to say. Sammy's always stirring up trouble down here, so that's something we can-"

"Sammy?" Tom interrupted. He scowled. "How the hell is that damn lunatic still alive?!"

"Probably the same reason you are," Wally said. "Though that ink mighta made him even crazier than before. It has a habit of pulling out the worst in people."

"How have you been able to keep him under control down here?" Tom asked. "That's your job, right?"

Wally rubbed the back of his head. "Well...you see...it's a bit harder to do that with Sammy, since he can...well, something about that ink has made it so that Sammy can walk through walls."

"Like Bendy?! No other toon can do that," Tom said.

"I guess Sammy's special. But we sorta have a mutual understanding that he at least won't go anywhere during the daytime. Night time is a whole 'nother story though..." Wally sighed and put his hand to his chin. "Can't deny that he's a problem...you know...if you could...well, I don't want to twist your arm or anything," Wally said, trailing off.

Tom resisted the urge to scowl again. Wally was playing dumb. Had a smirk on his face that Tom didn't like. But Tom took the bait anyway. "What do you want me to do?"

"If you can take care of Sammy, for good, then I'd be willing to look the other way if you want to...I don't know, slip passed me or something. Go up to the park. But you can't go leaving the park itself now, and you can't be seen during the day. Alright? Not like this. Not until we can find a permanent way to get that ink out of you, and for now, we ain't got no ideas. I'm pretty certain Bendy ain't gonna waltz out here and volunteer to take it all out of you."

"Not a chance," Tom agreed. "I won't be able to leave the park though?"

"Nope," Wally said. "Anything that's made out of that there ink can only go as far as the pipes. Some sort of containment system I guess. but the parks run pretty far below the park, they don't go passed the gate. That's why Joey keeps building down instead of building the park out. Can't go passed the pipes. None of the toons can go passed where the ink ends."

"I guess that makes sense," Tom said. "But I've looked around down here. These pipes won't hold forever. I don't think they're going to hold much longer at all. Doesn't Joey know, doesn't Joey care?"

"I can't say I know what's going on in Joey's head," Wally said. "But he seems to think that keeping Bendy and the other toons entertained with guests is more important than maintaining the pipes and the park itself. He'll pour all the money he has into keeping people coming back."

"But if those pipes go, this whole park will sink into the ground," Tom said. "People are going to get hurt. This can't keep going eventually."

"I know," Wally said. "But...there ain't nothin' we can do about that right now. Focus on what we got right in front of us. We'll worry about the bigger stuff later."

Tom agreed, but he couldn't help but wonder if that was the same kind of mentality that Joey had. Worry about it later, until later dragged this whole park down into the earth.

"Right then. Back to the matter at hand, and working out a deal for us," Wally said. "I can't control Sammy. At all. He's dangerous, and terrifying. You put a stop to him, for _good_ this time, and I'll not only let you leave, I'll help you. Maybe even help you find Alice."

"...you're asking me to kill someone," Tom said.

"Haven't you tried to kill him before? Why the hesitation now?" Wally asked.

Tom really hadn't ever tried to kill Sammy before. Sammy had gotten in the way plenty of times, sure, but there was never a real moment where Tom had tried to fight him, one on one. Allison had shown little hesitation when it came to putting an end to Susie's Alice. Was Tom strong enough to do the same? There was no question that there was little humanity left in Sammy, maybe even before he got tainted by the ink, but to end a life?

He shouldn't be hesitating. Sammy was a menace. A danger, a threat, and an overall problem. A madman.

But...technically still a man.

Tom didn't know if he had it in him to kill a real person, or even somebody who _used_ to be a person.

He...he could just knock Wally out and make a run for it. But then what? Wally had already said he'd look out for himself if he needed to. He could run to Joey, then Joey could use Allison against him again. And Sammy would continue to be a threat until they took care of him.

There wasn't a "they" though. No Henry. No Allison. And no Wally really. It was just him. If he was going to make the decision to kill somebody, really kill somebody, he was going to have to be ready. He had to be sure that this was what he really wanted.

Maybe he really would end up in hell after all. Right alongside Joey.

"Let's go find Sammy," Tom growled. "And give ourselves one less problem to deal with."

* * *

**Hope you like this chapter everyone! Sorry it's a bit shorter! It's been a while since I've stuck to focusing on just one to two characters for the entire chapter without jumping around perspectives, but that's because Tom had a lot going on this chapter! I hope you like my take on "Brute" Boris!**

**As always, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, and I'll see you all soon! The next chapter may come out a little over a month as opposed to my usual once a month replies, just have some busy life stuff coming up that's going to keep me a little pre-occupied. But don't worry! I'll be back soon! And then things are REALLY going to pick up the pace. Seriously. Things are going to start getting really wild really quickly from here on out.**

**Hope you're ready~**


	26. Chapter 26: Swan Song

**Part II Chapter 7: Swan Song**

**A/N: Hi full disclosure that this chapter's gonna have a lot of cursing, sorry if you don't like that sort of thing!**

* * *

Audrey was still pretty scared of this dark unknown. The tunnels weren't getting any brighter, and she kept hearing the sound of that awful river sloshing to her side. Her mom and dad had taken her to the beach once. The waves were so loud, but they stayed on the same path, the same sound. She'd chased seagulls along the shore, collected sea shells in a tiny bucket, and built a sand-castle right along the edge of the waves. She tried closing her eyes. It wasn't as scary when the darkness was just her eyelids. The sound of the river wasn't the beach though. It sloshed about without rhythm or purpose, drips and drops echoing around in her ears.

Bendy's grip tightened for a moment, and Audrey opened her eyes. There was a door in front of her. She didn't recognize it, but a poster of Bendy had been torn up and hung as a doorplate, with Bendy's name proudly displayed amid the inky handprints covering it and the door. Bendy shuddered for a moment, and Audrey heard popping noises as he started to shrink. There were cracks and pops, and she let go of his hand. After a few moments, he shivered, and turned to her, back to normal.

She smiled brightly at her friend and giggled. "You're back!"

He grinned and clapped his hands together, dancing around in circles. She felt like joining him. It wasn't so scary anymore. She wondered why he kept changing back and forth. Why didn't he just do that from the start? It was confusing, but she was just happy that he was back to normal, so she didn't really question it.

Bendy turned the door in front of them and opened it up, nodding and waving Audrey inside. She hesitated for a second, and Bendy poked his head back out of the room and waved again excitedly.

Audrey carefully stepped into the room with him, and gasped in wonder.

Toys and dolls lined the walls, along with posters and cutouts. There were dolls she hadn't even seen before, some were cast aside while others were carefully seated next to each other like an audience. Candles warmly lit the small room, and Audrey could also see cans of bacon soup as well. There were blankets, half-deflated balloons, and random clothing items like hats and jackets. It was like one big lost and found room, but nothing was haphazard, everything had a place. Pieces of shiny glass or bottles were hanging by string from the ceiling, catching the candlelight. There was a shoe, just a single shoe, by the door, far too big for Bendy to fit into, but a smaller slipper was right next to it, as if he'd tried to make a pair of them. Bendy stood proudly in the center of the room, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest.

"Is this...your room?" Audrey asked.

Bendy nodded up and down aggressively, taking Audrey by the hand and pulling her around the room to look at everything. There were posters turned around to their blank side with child-like pictures drawn in ink, books and audio logs stacked on a small wooden table that wobbled unsteadily, really everything but a bed. Most items were from around the park, but there were a few things that could have belonged to guests or workers at some point. A pair of sunglasses. An umbrella. A few dollar bills, coins, even a tiny earring.

Audrey couldn't help but laugh at his joy as he picked up dolls and drawings, showing them all to her, but her smile quickly started to fall.

"Bendy...I wanted to go home. I want to see my dad," she said.

Bendy paused. He wouldn't meet her eyes. He just grabbed something else to show her instead. A jar full of bugs. Most were dead. Some were squirming in the ink. Or...were they made out of ink? One of the dead bugs was moving, so maybe it wasn't dead, but it was all covered in ink and twitching.

She set that jar aside.

"Bendy. I wanna go home."

Still, he ignored her, turning instead to a broken record player and switching it on. Familiar songs fills the room, slightly off-key or slowed down in sections, sometimes skipping or repeating the same lines over and over again. Bendy grabbed her hands and pulled her to the center of the room, dancing around and around in circles. She let him for a while, but then pulled her hands away and stomped her foot.

"Bendy, I wanna go HOME!" she snapped.

He stopped. His smile didn't fade, of course. But Audrey felt herself shiver as he just...stared at her. He didn't move or flinch or blink. He just...stared.

"...please?" she squeaked quietly. "This place is...very nice. But this is _your_ home. It's not my home. I want...I want to see my mommy and my daddy."

He grabbed her hands again. His grip was tight. And his gaze was relentless.

Audrey swallowed the lump in her throat. She heard the bug in the jar by her feet squirm. Bang against the glass. It wasn't dead at all, but she couldn't even see the bug underneath the ink anymore.

She was getting scared again. But the last time she got scared of Bendy, he got really mad and chased after her. She...she really didn't want that to happen again. What should she do? Should she just pretend for a little while?

Audrey forced a smile. "A-actually, I don't have to go home right now...w-we can wait a little while longer and play...okay?"

Bendy perked up immediately, dropping her hands and spinning around the room. He jumped up and down, dancing and clapping, then raced over to a can of bacon soup. He undid the lip, prying it open with his bare hands, and handed it to her happily. She was really hungry. But the soup didn't look like the soup they served at the park. That soup was yummy and creamy and full of potatoes and tomatoes. This soup looked...black. Like maybe it had gone bad. Still, Bendy stared at her expectantly, dipping his own hand in to take a bite. She'd never seen him eat before.

Audrey glanced down at the bug at her feet. It was still flailing helplessly against the glass, running back in forth, slamming against its cage. Bendy glanced away for a second, and Audrey bent down and unscrewed the lid. The bug flew a few feet, and then dove into an ink puddle in the corner. Then, it finally stopped moving.

Audrey swallowed again. Her throat felt tight. She reached up and grabbed the can of soup, staring down at the lumpy contents.

"Thank you," she said quietly to Bendy. And he just smiled, and grabbed another can for himself.

* * *

Why oh why hadn't Henry started taking exercise classes with Linda?

She'd offered. "This'll be great bonding!" she'd said. But he refused, because he was already tired enough when he got home from work, he didn't want to add in exercise routines. Besides, when his wife decided to dedicate her time to something, she went all out. Her classes weren't just squats or jogging, no, she'd gotten into all kinds of physical activity. Weight lifting, aerobics, you name it, she'd probably dedicated some time to it. And he was supportive of course! But he hadn't signed up himself. No, he was perfectly content with his wimpy little body that only needed to focus on drawing.

Or that's what he thought, anyway. He should have known it was a good idea to join his wife after the whole fiasco a few years ago with Tom and Allison. Hadn't he learned that running was a necessary life skill?

Now here he was, dangling from a rope, holding on for dear life and trying not to look down. And it was a LONG way down.

He'd made sure the rope was secure. At least, he sure hoped it was. He'd tied it around a supporting pillar, back in the same room the giant hole Tom had fallen into. The rope itself, he could only hope it was sturdy. He'd found it in one of the back offices, tucked away with a few other emergency supplies like flashlights. None of the equipment looked like it had been touched in years though, and it probably hadn't, given that Joey didn't seem too concerned with safety measures.

Slowly, Henry lowered himself down, inch by inch. He had no idea if the rope was long enough to reach the bottom, nor could he tell if he was getting close. He really hoped the rope was long enough; if it wasn't, he'd have to climb all the way back up to the top and try to find more. His arms might really give out if that were the case.

He'd been climbing down slowly but surely for nearly half an hour, he'd assumed. The hole up above him was just a tiny speck now, not even casting any light onto his head. He really wished he'd brought a flashlight, though he would have had no way to hold it. Still, it might have made him feel better.

It was just...so dark. With so few light all around him, he felt like he was lowering himself into the jaws of some big beast. He had no idea if the hole he was going down was a mile wide or just a few feet. He heard nothing but the occasional whisper of wind, a cold draft that shifted him and his rope ever so slightly, but not enough for him to get too concerned.

He really hope Tom was alive down there.

He really hoped Audrey was safe, too.

He'd searched the entire park, top to bottom, hoping for some sign of her. She knew she was supposed to either wait for either of them if she were lost, or find someone to help her. If there was no one around to help her, she should have just stayed put. But what if she had found someone? Or...what if someone had found her?

Bendy had fallen down into the hole with Tom, so Henry could only hope that he was preoccupied and hadn't found her. That left Boris and Alice. He'd checked the security office, and no one was there, so a guard hadn't found her. It had to be one of those two.

Had Allison found her? That felt like the most hopeful option. Even if Allison didn't really remember who she was, even if she was just "Alice" right now, she was still a good person. She'd keep Audrey safe.

But then where could they be?

Henry felt like he'd lose his mind if he kept searching around aimlessly, and the sun was starting to rise. Guests would arrive soon, along with workers, and if they found the hole in the back room, they'd seal it up before Henry got the chance to go check for Tom.

Linda was looking too. He'd almost ran into them a few more times, exchanging panicked glances with his wife each time Henry came back empty-handed, with Joey none the wiser.

Henry had to face the truth. His daughter was here, somewhere, but she wasn't in the park. Allison had said that people went missing. They had to go somewhere, and Henry could only assume they were somewhere below the park, below the studio, and his only way down as through the same hole Tom had fallen through. He wasn't sure if it was the right way to go. The park was enormous. But if the park was opening soon, and Audrey was still hiding somewhere up above, she'd find someone to help her, an adult, maybe someone else with a family that could reunite her with Linda. That was the hope, anyway. But if Audrey was stuck somewhere below the studio, there was little chance the right kind of people would find her.

So this was where he had to look.

At this point, it had been hours since Tom had fallen. If his friend had been hanging onto life somewhere below before, he might not be anymore. Henry could climb all the way down to the bottom, and find nothing but his body. But now, there were two reasons for him to climb down the hole. The chance that his friend might be alive, and the chance that his daughter might be trapped down there as well.

Henry's foot touched something wet. He stopped, recognizing the smell that was always sickeningly present throughout the studio.

Ink. And a lot of it.

It was too dark to see anything. How close he was to the shore, if he was hovering over a puddle, or something much bigger. Hadn't Tom said there was a drainage system below the park? Something to contain all that ink and rainwater? This might have been it, but Henry thought he might be down even farther than that now. Every time he thought he reached the bottom of the studio, every time he thought they couldn't go any lower, there was always another layer, always something deeper and more menacing. Allison had fallen into the drainage system before, and she'd been alright. Maybe Henry could just lower himself a little more and-

"Who...who are you?"

Henry froze, straining his eyes through the darkness. They'd hardly adjusted at all in the time he'd been climbing, but he thought he could just barely see an outline in the distance. "H-hello?" he called back out.

"Wha...why are you hanging by a rope?"

He recognized that voice. He'd heard it a million times it what felt like a million different ways.

"Alice?"

He could barely see her, holding up a candle. Her face was haunting with nothing but a small flame shadowing her features, like an angel of death. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

"Do you...need some help?" she asked.

"Yes please," Henry said, still hanging on.

The flame vanished for a moment, he followed it with his eyes for as long as he could, and then it reappeared again. He heard Alice grunt, and then a big splash.

"I-I moved a piece of wood under you. It's not very strong, and it won't hold your weight for long, but you might be able to reach the shore if you jump to it," she said.

"R-right then, stand back," Henry said, and worked up the nerve to let go of the rope. He felt his body hit the wood, immediately wobbling as it started to sink below him, and he jumped toward Alice's voice as far as he could. His foot caught the edge of the shore, and he almost fell backwards before he felt her hands grabbing him and pulling him back. He sank down to the safety of hard ground and let out a breath. "Thank you..."

"No problem," she said, and sat down beside him. Now that he was closer, he could see her face more clearly. Black lines were running from her eyes to her cheeks, inky tears their kind weren't supposed to really shed. Her hair was a mess. Her halo was askew. And her bow looked torn as well.

"...are you alright?" Henry asked.

She jumped as if he'd startled her, and gave a sweet smile. "Oh, don't worry about me, sir! I'm more concerned why you were dangling from a rope down here!"

"It's...a long story," Henry said, an easy out from having to explain to her the complexity of their lives. The complexity that she was so closely ingrained in. "My name is Henry. How did you get down here? Shouldn't you be up there, entertaining guests with your songs?"

Her bottom lip trembled. "I...I think so..."

"Are you lost too?"

"Yes. No, I...I don't know," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm terribly sorry, y-you're a guest, I should be smiling and entertaining you! That's what we do, that's what I'm supposed to do!"

Henry shook his head. "No. Don't worry about it. I'm a worker too, right? So there's no need to go through all that trouble. We're just coworkers, you and I."

"Coworkers?" Alice asked. "Do you work at the studio?"

Henry nodded. "Yes, I make..." he trailed off. He'd never had to explain who he was to a toon before. He wasn't even sure where to start. How much would she understand?

"You're...the Creator, aren't you?" she asked.

Henry cleared his throat. It was an odd title he wasn't sure he liked.

Alice smiled and looked down at her candle's flickering flame. "I...I could tell when I saw you. It's...very strange. It's like a connection. We all have a connection to the ink machine. We can feel it, in our chest. Like a pulse, but not quite a heartbeat. There's something similar when I look at you. Something familiar, and old, and comforting. Does that make sense?"

"I can't say it's a feeling I'm familiar with myself," Henry admitted. "But it would make sense. I originally designed the toons, yes. But that was a long time ago, back when it was just doodles on ink and paper. I...I had nothing to do with creating you per say."

"...Henry. Since you made us, originally, can I ask you a question?" she asked.

He nodded, then realized she might not be able to see him nod in the darkness. "Ah, yes, of course."

"Do you think that we should exist?"

Henry stopped. He wasn't expecting a question like that. Alice's eyes were staring holes into his skull, looking for some sort of reaction, for something.

How the hell could he even begin to respond to such a question? He...he couldn't. So he was just silent. And after a while, she continued.

"I'm...not so sure we're supposed to. I think there's something wrong with us," she said. "I...I don't always feel right. Sometimes it's wonderful, when I see children and adults smile, when I make them happy, when I hear them sing along...nothing feels more right in this whole wide world. But...sometimes it's _wrong_. Sometimes I feel like I'm...like I'm too many angles, too big, too small, not right. Like colors are too much, and sounds aren't enough, and everything just...it goes on and on and on without end. I always crave an end. Not to die, just...to restart again." She tucked her legs close to herself. "I suppose none of this makes much sense to you..."

"Actually Alice, what you said makes a lot of sense. I can't really say whether you should exist or not. I just know that...you do. And whether or not it's right or wrong is kind of irrelevant. If you exist, if you're _here_, in this moment, then nobody has a right to say otherwise," Henry said. He took a deep breath. He didn't have much time to waste. He had a hundred questions for her. Had she seen Audrey? Did she know where Tom was? Did she know anything useful? He couldn't ask them, not yet, not while she looked so scared and helpless. After all, somewhere deep inside of this angel was his friend. He couldn't just leave her like this.

"What made you start thinking all of this?" Henry asked.

Alice winced. She looked afraid. "...it's...also a long story. But I...I don't feel like myself sometimes. I feel like something is wrong with me. Like there's someone else, clawing at me from the inside, trying to get out. I'm so scared of what will happen if that person succeeds...there are so many voices in the ink, Henry," she said. Her eyes were wide. Whatever she was staring at, Henry couldn't see. "So many voices, all the time, each one so loud, each one trying to scream over the next...sometimes I can't even hear my own voice through it all. I...I can't tell who I am sometimes...who I'm meant to be...I...I am Alice. But sometimes, I feel like I'm more too."

Was this it? Was this Henry's chance to tell Alice who she really was? Were those voices Allison trying to break free from the ink machine's control? If he told Alice the truth, would it overwhelm her, or push her over the edge and give Allison the chance to come back and emerge? Would she even believe him?

He opened his mouth to speak, but before I could, Allison gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh no...I...I left her there, I left her with him, I-I can't believe I forgot, no no no!" She stood up in a flash, and Henry scrambling to stand up with her.

"W-what are you talking about?" Henry asked. "Left who? What's going on?"

"Audrey," Alice whispered, terror in her eyes.

Henry's eyes matched hers immediately. "My daughter?!"

Alice started running, and Henry followed the sound of her footsteps without hesitation, sprinting to keep up with her. He didn't have time or the mind to ask her how Audrey got down here or who she was left with, he just ran to the beat of his frantically racing heart. There was light up ahead, and he and Alice rounded the corner to a large fire-lit square and-

"There you are..." a voice growled.

Alice froze, and Henry nearly barreled into her in his effort to stop so quickly.

Another familiar voice.

Sammy stepped out, clutching the only eye that wasn't covered in ink. Monster was the only way to describe him. His eyes were locked onto Alice, filled with fury and something else Henry couldn't describe, something desperate and hungry.

"Why'd you run away, my angel?" he asked. "Susie...Allison...and Alice..."

"SHUT UP!" Alice screamed, clutching her head. "Leave me alone!"

Sammy took a step toward them, and Henry moved in front of Alice instinctively. Sammy's eyes narrowed. He pulled his hand away from his good eye, revealing a bruised, black eye leaking ink instead of blood. "Henry...you're a pain in my ass just as much as Tom is..."

"How are you still alive, Sammy?" Henry asked.

"Oh, this place never lets anything die, not really," Sammy said. "Dying is expensive...and Joey does all he can to save on cost...this is all one big tomb for sinners like us...we live and breathe these walls, this ink...it keeps us prisoner here...half god and half man..."

"He's crazy," Alice whispered. "Audrey was with him when I...when I ran..."

"If you're talking about that girl who was with you, she left. Ran off somewhere after you abandoned her, and I couldn't care less one way or the other where she went," Sammy said.

Alice winced. "Audrey...I'm sorry," she whimpered.

Henry wanted nothing more than to run. To go find his daughter. She was here somewhere, in this dark...but Alice was still behind him. Trembling. He was the only thing between her and Sammy. He couldn't just abandon her to go after his child...

_But she abandoned Audrey, didn't she? You have every right to abandon her as well._

Henry swallowed. He hated thoughts like that. But they were getting louder with each second.

Could he really protect Alice anyway? Whatever Sammy was right now clearly wasn't human anymore, and this ink had proven time and time again to grant people incredible strength and abilities. He'd be like a rag doll. Sammy could get to Alice anyway...

_You should save your strength. Go find your daughter._

Dammit...dammit! Henry's hand trembled, and Sammy grinned. His gaze shifted over from Alice to Henry, like he could read his mind, like he could already tell what Henry was thinking off doing. Maybe Alice could sense it too. He heard her whimper again. Heard her try not to cry.

Every second he wasted was another second that Audrey was alone and scared, wondering why her father hadn't come to save her already. But leaving Allison...he'd already left Tom. Was running the right option? What was he supposed to do?!

Sammy chuckled, and took a step toward them, outstretching his arms as if to carry the whole world in them. "Don't worry, Henry. I'll take good care of Alice. I'd never harm my perfect angel~ We're going to be together forever. Alice, Susie, Allison, and I~"

"LIKE HELL YOU ARE!"

Sammy turned just in time to see an enormous inky fist slam into the side of his face and send him sailing into a wooden shack. Sammy hit the shack with a large crash, and the whole stack of wood fell on top of him, scattering dust and debris.

Tom pulled his fist back, growling and looking toward where Sammy had gone. "You're not touching her ANYMORE!"

"T-Tom?!" Alice said. He turned to her, but it was clear by the confusion on her face that she still didn't remember him. She just knew his name from their brief earlier meeting.

"Tom!" Henry said. There was so much relief, so many questions when he saw the arm, but words were spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Tom, my daughter, she's somewhere here and I-"

"Then go, quickly!" Tom shouted. "Go get her!"

"Thank you," Henry said, and started running. "Alice, stay with Tom! He'll keep you safe, I promise!"

"O-Okay! And Henry, I-I'm sorry," she called out.

"Me too," Henry whispered to himself. And then he was gone.

"Damn you...DAMN YOU THOMAS CONNER!" Sammy burst out of the ruble, throwing pieces of wood off of him. The ink around him swelled and pulsed like it was alive, making him more monstrous by the second. "You always get in my way! YOU CAN'T HAVE HER THIS TIME!"

Tom cracked the knuckles on his human hand and popped his neck. "Come and get her, bastard."

"M-Miss Alice, we should stand back," Wally said, appearing behind Alice and gently pulling her away. But Alice's eyes were locked onto Tom.

"Tom..." she whispered. "Thomas...Conner..."

Wally tugged again, and this time she followed, stepping back just enough to be out of the firing zone. They weren't the only ones. Lost Ones from all corners of the shambled city emerged, peeking their heads out of buildings or forming a scattered crowd, all watching with glowing eyes.

Sammy lumbered toward Tom, the ink swelling and covering nearly every part of him. "She's mine...she's mine she's mine she's mine! She's my angel, my savior!" Sammy shouted. "I CANNOT BE A GOD WITHOUT AN ANGEL!"

"You're one sick son of a bitch, you know that?" Tom said. "You've had it in your head from the beginning that all these singers work for you...that they owe you something..."

"They do," Sammy said. "Especially Allison...she owes me favors! I helped her, you know! I used to be her friend! And Susie...oh Susie..." he paused. "My Susie...my sweet little songbird..."

"Susie is dead," Tom said.

"NO SHE'S NOT!" Sammy roared. "She's...she's still alive! She's there, in Alice! My Susie is still alive! She can still sing for me, just like old times!"

Tom frowned. "...guess talking sense into you is out then. I still don't want to kill anyone. But you ain't exactly looking very human."

"No..." Sammy chuckled, the ink covered all but his eye now, everything else an inky lurker with limbs and hands made of ink, all turned toward Tom. "The only one dying today will be you, Thomas Conner. Once and for all, I will finish you and get you out of my way for good."

Sammy lunged, and Tom's eyes widened as he dove out of the way. The inky body had given Sammy more speed than Tom was expecting. Sammy spun on his heel as Tom jumped out of the way, grabbing his good arm and swinging him back around. Tom cursed and reared his inky fish back, slamming into Sammy. Both of them went tumbling to the ground, rolling toward the firepit in the center. Tom could feel the heat rolling off of it in waves.

He jumped to his feet, trying to get the upper hand on Sammy and slamming his fist toward him. Sammy rolled to the side, kicking out at Tom's legs and sending him to the ground. Tom caught himself and pushed back, ducking as Sammy swung his own inky fist at him. He dodged the first one, but the second one knocked the air from his lungs and sent him crashing to the ground. He coughed up something, wasn't sure if it was ink or blood, or which one would be worse. Sammy kicked him in the gut, sending him further away, but Tom took the opportunity to pull out his ax. When Sammy reared back to punch again, Tom swung and hit Sammy in the chest, sending him sailing back again toward the fire.

"I'll be damned...Tom might really be able to do this!" Wally whispered. "Check it out Miss Alice! ...Miss Alice?"

Wally's words weren't reaching her. Alice was lost in the last place she'd ever wanted to be, her own mind, and was struggling to remember even her own name.

Voices spinning again. Names too.

Alice...Allison...Susie...

Sammy hit the logs in the fire, spraying ashes down onto him. He roared, barely swatting them off of him before he charged toward Tom full speed. Tom tried to dodge again, but this time, Sammy was ready. He predicted Tom's movements and changed course, crashing into him and sending them both to the ground. Tom felt something metallic creak and break, the metal in his arm snapping. He wasn't expecting it to hurt, but it did, and he screamed as the ax went tumbling out of his hands and away from his reach. He tried frantically to grab for it, but Sammy pulled him away, dragging him closer and closer to the fire. Tom dug his hand into the dirt, pulling up nothing but weak splinters of wood and dust, his inky arm useless without the metal to hold it up.

Sammy started laughing. "Are you scared, Tom? You're nothing without both of your arms, you're pathetic...you couldn't protect Allison...and you can't even protect yourself..."

Tom felt the heat of the flames. His hissed in pain as the flames licked at his shoes and ankles. He looked frantically through the crowd of Lost Ones for Wally, but he couldn't see him anywhere.

"Don't worry," Sammy said with a grin. "I'll take good care of my angel...of my dear Susie...my dear Alice...my dear-" He turned, looking over his shoulder. His eyes widened. "N-No, what are you-"

SMACK

There was a harsh, sickening smack as the ax sank deep into Sammy's head. The ax head broke off completely with the force. Nothing but ink dripped down his face, and Sammy's mouth opened and closed wordlessly in shock. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as his grip on Tom released and he fell back into the fire. The flames ate at the ink, at his body, and everything, and Sammy had barely enough sense to scream.

Tom looked up to see Alice standing over him, ax handle in hand. She was panting for breath, eyes locked onto Sammy's burning body.

"Al...ice?" Sammy croaked, his final dying breath.

"ENOUGH!" Alice threw the broken ax handle into the fire after Sammy and put a hand to her chest. "My name...IS ALLISON PENDLE!"

Sammy said nothing more. The flames swallowed him completely, and Alice let her hand fall back to her side. With her back to Tom, he couldn't see her face. She couldn't see his fill with tears.

"Allison?" he whispered. "Are you...really?"

She turned around and smiled at him. She still looked like an angel. Still had horns. Still had a halo. But that look in her eyes was something only _she_ could ever have.

"Hi Tom..." she said, tears rising to her eyes. "Sorry for making you wait."

* * *

**WHOOP THERE IT IIIIIIS**

**MY GIRL IS BACK**

**YUS**

**Alright I'm chill, I'm calm guys, but I've been so eagerly awaiting this moment lol**

**As always, thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! And stay safe out there, stay home when you can and wear masks out in public!**

**PS: TYPING WITH ACRYLIC NAILS IS SUCH A PAIN WHY DID I DECIDE TO TRY THESE AWFUL THINGS T.T please forgive my typos I promise I'll go back and fix them once these accursed things are off**

**Also press F to pay respects to Sammy, I swear he's not coming back this time lol**


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